Heathens
by themuse123
Summary: "If you care, then eventually you die." After a dubious attempt at suicide, Mason joins the group at the prison, fighting her growing affection for them while struggling with demons from the past. F/F, BETH/OC *Possible trigger warning: mentions of self-harm, attempted rape* Ch. 28 & 29: FINALE.
1. James Brown

1\. James Brown

It was a measly cache, and she knew it had probably been stupid to risk stealing it, but it was going on four days since she'd eaten anything aside from a handful of oak leaves. She was getting sick of cold beans but it was better than chewing on trees.

There was only one other can, a can of green beans, and even though she hated those green little bastards she still had to resist opening them. With the way things were going she might not eat until next spring.

 _Do you really want to see next spring?_ she wondered, and it was a question that needed answering but for now at least she had something in her stomach, and honestly she just couldn't bring herself to give much of a shit either way.

With her hunger temporarily sated, she stashed the green beans in her pack and headed north, back to the little house where she'd originally seen that group.

From what she could tell they were made up mostly of feral-looking men, and she'd seen enough of those to figure she couldn't just ask nicely for some beans. So she'd stolen the cans, and she didn't feel bad about that, and fuck them all to Jupiter if they thought she should.

As she approached the house, the tension in her chest eased a little. She couldn't see the group or their cars, and judging by their tire tracks they must have left in a hurry. With one hand on the fire poker strapped to her back, she crept closer.

There were several walkers but she dispatched them quickly. She wasn't surprised that the house was all but picked over, but she did manage to snag a shovel and two spools of jewelry wire. Content with her treasures, she returned to the clearing.

She set to work immediately, digging trenches in a wide arc around the tree where she'd eaten lunch. The beans had lent her a fresh wave of energy, but she was still not quite able to dig them as deep as she wanted to. When she had finished she tied the jewelry wire between the trees, covering the spaces where she'd given up trying to dig. Then she took out the solar battery.

She'd scored it from the house of a family who had clearly had enough money to enjoy life but not enough to survive it. She killed them before they ate her, in their pristine kitchen, with their pristine butcher's knife, and afterwards threw up in their pristine kitchen sink. They were the very first walkers in a long line of walkers that she'd killed.

There were loads of things she'd taken from that house, but she'd lost nearly all of it when the car was run off the road, the same week Gina-

 _Stop._

Hastily she closed her eyes against the memory, like that would somehow block it out, and leaned against her tree with the solar battery under one arm. From her pack she retrieved the mini speakers and the iPod that she couldn't bear to leave behind in the evacuation and plugged them into the battery.

Music started playing through the speakers, still loud from the last time. She relaxed with her hands behind her head and waited.

It didn't take long for the walkers to show up. She didn't move when they did. From the corner of her eye she saw one stumble into the trench and another rip its throat wide open on a wire. Her lips twitched into a grin.

When the bodies began piling high in the trenches she pulled out her fire poker and stabbed the closest ones through the head. There were more of them than she'd been expecting but that was a good thing. Let fate make the call if it really wanted to.

A hand clamped down on her shoe. Her heart hammered in her chest but still she didn't move. The walker snarled up at her, dragging itself closer, fingers locked around her foot with frightening strength.

She swallowed and stared into its fish-pale eyes, refusing to move, refusing to be afraid. Its teeth gnashed, some of them jiggling loosely in its rotted gums. Closer…closer…

Something ran through its head, spraying her with sludge that had once been blood. She gasped in shock and sat ramrod straight against the tree as the walker fell still.

It was an arrow, looking cheerful and out of place with its bright yellow plastic feathers. She blinked at it a second longer and then looked up, where a man with a machete was cutting his way through her growling guests.

She recognized him from the group she'd seen earlier, along with the mean-looking motherfucker who stepped forward to retrieve his arrow and load it back into his crossbow. He glared at her as he did and her fingers tightened over the fire poker. But she didn't recognize the Asian kid or the man with the thick white beard who reminded her of her grandfather. The sight of him sent a strange pang through her stomach.

The Asian kid grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

"What the hell are you doing?" he said.

She yanked her hand from his. "I had it covered."

"Didn't look like it," the bowman said, driving the yellow arrow through another walker's eye.

She bridled at his tone but before she could respond one of the walkers in the trench grabbed her ankle. She stumbled to her knees and the fire poker disappeared in the foliage.

" _Fuck_."

She kicked out strongly but couldn't seem to land a proper blow. The walker's teeth snapped just inches from her leg.

Machete Man brought his weapon down on its head, cleaving it in half. The bowman unplugged her speakers and the forest fell silent.

For a moment, she stared up at them, particularly Machete Man. There was something in his eyes, something remote, that made her think twice about which one was the real mean motherfucker of the group.

Finally Machete Man spoke. "What were you doing?" His voice was soft, but there was nothing friendly about it.

"Nothing that concerns anyone but me and them," she replied, indicating the unmoving dead. She was surprised her voice sounded so even, considering her heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of her chest.

"Hey."

She looked up as the bowman spoke, but quickly realized he wasn't addressing her. His eyes were on Machete Man, dark with meaning, and he was holding something up.

The bean can. She swallowed hard.

Machete Man turned to her. His head tilted just a bit. "Did you steal from us?"

Quickly she weighed her options. If she told them the truth, they would likely kill her. If she didn't, they might kill her anyway. She tried to figure out why she was suddenly so afraid when she'd been prepared to let that walker eat her.

Because they might not kill her immediately. The thought made her stomach roll sickly.

She glared up at him, hoping as she opened her mouth to speak that she wouldn't throw up instead.

"Yes."

 _What the fuck are you doing?_

His head tilted further, a predator observing its prey. His hand tightened around the handle of the machete, knuckles white under the blood splatters.

"Rick," a new voice spoke up. She looked up to see the man with the white beard, brows pulled together in concern. "Look at her. She's starving."

"Yeah, so are we," the bowman snapped.

When Rick didn't respond, White Beard stepped forward and took him aside. She waited in tense silence while they whispered together, trying her best to ignore the bowman's glare.

It seemed to take forever, but it must have only been a few moments. When the two of them finally turned around, she shrunk back from Rick's dark expression and tried to plan out a way to rid him of his machete.

He pointed at her. "You're coming with us," he said.

Her muscles tensed. The bowman looked up sharply. "What?"

Rick glanced at him. "She's coming with us."

The suspicion sharpened on the bowman's face but he didn't argue. Instead he pulled her up roughly by her arm and kept a tight grip on her while they started back in the direction of the house. They paused only long enough so that the Asian kid could find her fire poker and Rick could gather the rest of her belongings in her pack.

She kept her mouth shut while they walked, though she longed to scream. Or at the very least tell them to go to hell. Her mind raced, scheming out ways to return the fire poker to her hands and break free of theirs. But every plan ended with serious injuries and she didn't like her odds. Perhaps if she could get her hand on something at the house…

But they passed by it completely. She only saw a faint glimpse of its pale blue siding before they disappeared deeper into the trees.

She gritted her teeth.

 _Fuckfuckfuck._

She didn't care if they killed her, but she'd seen how the new world changed people, brought out their inner shadows. Wherever they were taking her it couldn't end well. Her only hope was that White Beard would plead a case on her behalf. He looked gentle enough. Surely he wouldn't want her harmed?

These thoughts vanished when they emerged on the edge of a small road and came in sight of the group, gathered around their cars.

They weren't just made up of feral men after all. There was the brawny black guy she'd seen before, and the kid with the sheriff hat, but there was also a young woman with short brown hair, a pretty blonde girl with the same eyes, a woman with short, mousy gray hair. And in the middle of them all, a brown haired, heavily pregnant woman.

She stopped dead. Her stomach twisted with guilt.

"C'mon," Bowman grunted, tugging on her arm till she stumbled forward.

"I…I didn't know," she stammered, looking from White Beard to Asian Kid and finally to Rick. "I wouldn't have taken anything if I'd known…"

Bowman snorted.

She glared at him. "I wouldn't."

The crossbow twitched toward her and she clamped her mouth shut. The rest of the group watched all of this with dull interest.

Rick stared at her until she started fidgeting. She thought about reiterating how sorry she was but the words stuck in her throat.

"Rick," Asian Kid said. "She didn't know."

"It doesn't change the fact that she stole from us," Rick replied.

"Rick, we talked about this," White Beard said.

"Yes, we did."

Rick pointed his machete at her and it took all of her strength not to flinch. "You're going to pay us back," he said.

She glanced doubtfully at her pack. "I don't have much."

"That's why you're going to find it first."

She looked around at the machete and the crossbow, the knife strapped to the pretty blonde's belt, the gun tucked in the boy's jeans. She looked at the pregnant woman's weary face.

She nodded. "I won't take anything that I find," she said.

"No, you won't," Rick said. The pregnant woman glanced at him but he ignored her.

She was a little surprised that no one objected to this decision, or even asked who she was.

 _Like they give a shit about the name of the person who stole from a pregnant lady._

The mousy woman stood up and laid a hand on Pregnant Woman's shoulder. "What do you say we wash these clothes?"

"Sure."

The mousy woman and the pretty blonde helped Pregnant Woman to her feet. The brawny guy looked at Rick.

"I'll head down with them. We need more water anyway."

As the rest of the group, including Asian Kid and White Beard, headed into the woods, Bowman said, "While the rest of them wash their panties, let's hunt. That owl ain't sitting right."

"Right." Rick looked at her. "You come with us."

She nodded, wondering as Asian Kid disappeared when she would get her pack back.

Bowman kept one eye on her as they walked, which irritated her to no end. But who was she to piss off a redneck with a crossbow?

When they came to a narrow train track they followed it, and she was the first one to see the prison through the trees.

"Hey," she whispered and pointed.

All of them stopped, observing the intact walls, the lookout, the fences… and the walkers in blue jumpsuits roaming the wide yard.

"That's a shame," Bowman said.

But Rick was silent, and she was surprised to see the first real glint of life behind his eyes.

"Let's get back to the others," he finally said.

Bowman looked curiously from Rick to the walkers in the yard, but nodded all the same.

As they headed back, setting a quicker pace than before, Rick looked at her.

"What's your name?" he asked.

Hiding her surprise, she said, "Mason."

Bowman didn't offer up his name, and she didn't ask.

They found the group at a wide stream. The group looked up in surprise.

"What's up?" the brawny guy said.

"We might have found a place to stay," Rick said, "but we'll have to fight for it."

Mousy Woman frowned. "Fight?"

"Yard's full of walkers," Bowman said. "But if we clear it, it might make a good place."

"I don't know if we should be bargaining 'might' against a yard full of walkers," Asian kid said.

"Where is this place?" Mousy Woman asked.

"We'll show you," Rick said.

Pretty Blonde and the brunette Mason thought might be her sister hoisted Pregnant Woman to her feet. Mason hovered awkwardly, wondering if she should help.

She fell in next to Pretty Blonde as the group set off from the stream. The other women stuck close and Brawny Guy took the rear. She began to feel trapped.

"So what is this place exactly?" Pretty Blonde asked quietly. "It didn't sound like a normal house."

Mason blinked in surprise. "Oh, uh, it's not," she murmured. "It's a prison."

Pretty Blonde's eyes widened. They were so blue. "A prison?"

"Yeah." Mason laughed half-heartedly. "Guess it's a fitting place for me, huh?"

It was a bit tasteless, and she knew it when she said it, but Pretty Blonde just smiled slightly and shook her head.

"What's your name?" she asked.

"Mason."

"My name's Beth."

Mason smiled and Beth's blue, blue eyes twinkled back at her, and even after everything that had happened it suddenly felt a little easier to breathe.

 **Author's Note:** A few things I just thought I'd mention. The chapter title, "James Brown", is a reference to Cage the Elephant's song of the same name because this whole fanfic is going to revolve tightly around music- since music is so important to Mason, and also because the music in TWD is so powerful. I chose "James Brown" for the first chapter as it's the song she's listening to when the walkers come (and I also thought it was cool that the real James Brown's first conviction was for theft at the age of sixteen, which I thought was fitting.) Also the story title, "Heathens", is a reference to twenty one pilots' newest radio hit, and if you listen to the lyrics it fits beautifully with TWD. Anyway, enough boring stuff, I just obsess over music. Thank you for reading and I hope you will tune in for the next chapter, which will be more or less action and not so much exposition.


	2. The Bat's Mouth

Note: The song for this chapter is "The Bat's Mouth" by Bat For Lashes. It's a pretty chill song if you want to give it a listen.

2\. The Bat's Mouth

The fire crackled low, the only light in the darkness. Mason watched the group from afar, leaning against the inner fence with her knees pulled up to her chest. In the distance, Rick and Pregnant Woman- _Lori,_ she reminded herself- were talking. She hadn't had the nerve to ask anyone but she assumed Rick and Lori were together, despite the obvious tension.

After the yard was cleared, Rick and Daryl the Bowman took her out to finish their hunt. There wasn't much to find, but she managed to dig up a few cans of tuna from an abandoned car and Daryl caught a possum on the way back.

As promised she didn't eat anything, though her stomach ached like it was full of broken glass. The others split the food among themselves and the lift in everyone's mood was palpable, but she couldn't bring herself to join them.

She couldn't sleep but she knew she should. Tomorrow was going to need all of her strength. But though she closed her eyes she couldn't get comfortable, and her nerves continued to buzz with nervous energy, and so with a sigh she went to see the Asian kid, Glenn.

"Could I have my iPod?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure."

Mason caught a flicker of sympathy in his eyes and she looked away.

As she was heading back to her spot by the fence she saw Beth looking at her, and she wished briefly that she could join her by the fire. But Daryl had not lost his unfriendly glare, and Carol, the mousy woman, kept casting her wary glances, and besides, she was going to leave as soon as Rick decided her debt had been paid.

When she opened her eyes to the sunrise her iPod was still playing. She quickly turned it off. She didn't know when Rick would let her have her pack back and the solar battery would need time to charge anyway.

She reluctantly gave her iPod back to Glenn when he awoke and waited on the outskirts while the others stirred.

Rick appeared at her side. "We're clearing the prison today. I want you to come with us."

She raised an eyebrow. "Me?"

"You know how to kill walkers," he said.

"And you don't trust me."

He was silent for a moment and she wondered if maybe her dumbfuck mouth had cashed in her chips once and for all. Then he smiled wryly.

"Well we only have so many beans."

Against her will she smiled, too.

Glenn gave back her fire poker, and she was still breathing a sigh of relief at its comforting weight when Beth came up to her.

Silently she held out her hand and Mason blinked in surprise.

"It's not much," Beth said. "But you need your strength."

Mason took the possum meat. "Thank you."

Beth nodded once before turning and hurrying away.

Mason ate her breakfast quickly and then gathered with the expedition group- Glenn and Maggie, T-Dog and Daryl. Rick stood at the head.

"Stay in a tight formation. I don't want any stragglers," he said.

Hershel stepped up to the gate leading separating the field from the prison. "Ready?" he said.

Rick nodded. The whole group tensed into a tighter circle as Hershel slide the gate open.

The walkers met them immediately and T-Dog took the first one down. Mason followed Daryl and Maggie, bringing up the rear. As Daryl faced off with one walker another shambled up to take advantage of his distraction. Mason swung her fire poker and the metal cut easily through its mushy skull. He gave her a brief nod before pulling her back into the circle by the sleeve of her shirt.

They moved steadily through the cement yard, ignoring the cries of the group beyond the fence in an attempt to distract the walkers. The circle only wavered briefly when T-Dog grabbed up a riot shield and Maggie broke rank to dispatch a walker snarling up at them from the ground.

Mason's heart raced with adrenaline and the strange satisfaction of having five other hearts racing with hers. It had been a long time since she'd felt like a real part of anything.

 _But you're_ not _a part of anything,_ she reminded herself. A pang ran through her at the thought, but she hardened herself against it. _You can't allow yourself to be._

Rick pulled to a stop at a metal door and motioned for the rest of them to stay hidden. Around the corner Mason could hear the telltale groans of the walkers, and from Rick's reaction there must have been more than he thought they could handle.

Her sweaty fingers tightened around the fire poker. Her stomach twisted with anticipation.

Suddenly two walkers appeared from around the Dumpster, clad in riot gear. Daryl aimed his crossbow and crept forward, but two more rounded the corner only a few feet from Rick.

The arrow flew and bounced off the closest walker's face guard. Rick leapt forward but his machete bounced off, too, and the walkers closed in, snapping at his face.

Mason broke from her place in line, swinging her fire poker. Thick brown blood exploded as it sank deep into the walker's neck and stuck there. The walker limped closer, fingers grabbing for her face, her neck. Leaning back, she planted her foot against its chest guard and kicked it away. The fire poker pulled loose and she stumbled back.

More walkers appeared from around the corner, roused by the noise and the scent of warm flesh. The group leapt into the fray, battling in vain against the ones in riot gear. Mason found herself back to back with Daryl, facing off with two mean walkers dressed as guards. One of them grabbed her arm before she snapped the bone and rammed the fire poker through its skull.

Rick called for Daryl and Mason drew back to help Glenn, T-Dog and Maggie, who were all wrestling to pull off a monstrous walker's helmet off. Mason flitted in just as Glenn wrenched the helmet back, exposing its face, and skewered it with her fire poker.

Whipping around, she was startled to see that there were no walkers left. She relaxed her grip on the poker. Her fingers were slimy with blood.

Glenn and Maggie exchanged a hopeful glance and Mason felt buoyed by their expressions. They started heading back toward the fence where the rest of the group waited, but Rick called them back.

"Stop."

Glenn hovered uncertainly. "It looks secure."

"Not from the look of that courtyard over there." Daryl pointed around the corner where the walkers had gathered against the gate. "And that's a civilian."

Mason blinked at the body lying near their feet, at her normal clothes and delicate features. Very obviously someone who did not belong here. Her excitement dwindled.

"So the interior could be overrun by walkers from outside the prison," T-Dog said.

"Well if there's wall's down, what are we gonna do? We can't rebuild this whole place," Glenn said.

Mason glanced toward the fence. Her eyes landed on Beth, staring anxiously through the chain link.

"We can't risk a blind spot," Rick said. "We have to push in."

Everyone drooped reluctantly but no one hesitated when he lead them up a set of caged stairs and into the prison.

The commons area where they ended up looked grim and uninviting, and it reeked of piss and rotting garbage, and still Mason looked around in wonder. When was the last time she'd lived somewhere with four walls and a roof? Eight months ago? A year?

Rick retrieved the keys from the guard tower and let them into the cell block. They spread out to examine each cell; Mason followed Rick and Daryl upstairs to check the second level, but the only walkers they encountered were locked in and easily taken care of.

When he was assured that all the walkers were dead, Rick said, "Let's head back to the group. We'll bring them inside and go from there."

There was a faint gleam of life in his eyes that hadn't been there before. Everyone seemed energized by it. They hurried out of the prison, and when they came in sight of the others Mason found Beth and smiled hugely.

They met each other as Rick slid the gate open.

"How is it?" Beth asked.

"Well, it's dark and it smells like shit," Mason said. "But I think if you put a few flowers in the windows it'll spruce it right up."

"Is it safe?"

Mason blanched at the word. _Safe._ In her mind she saw that night, only a few months ago, that night when every face she saw was covered in blood and every sound she heard was a scream and there was nothing, nothing, _nothing_ she could do about any of it.

She clenched her jaw and swallowed around the lump in her throat. Beth was still waiting, watching her with growing concern.

"As safe as it can be," she said.

~m~

They retrieved their belongings from the cars and brought them inside. Mason stood back while the others picked out their cells, and cleaned the guts off her fire poker with a tattered sheet. Now that they had fought past the immediate threat, exhaustion weighed down her eyelids. Her limbs felt as heavy as lead. Slowly she leaned her back against the wall and sank to the floor.

Just as she was drifting off, a hand shook her lightly awake. She startled, grabbing for her fire poker.

"Whoa, easy."

Beth's face swam into focus. Mason blushed and mumbled, "Sorry."

"It's okay. You know, there's an empty bunk in my cell. And that floor doesn't look too comfortable."

"Oh. Thanks, but-"

"No but's. You need to sleep."

"I can sleep here."

Beth was silent for a moment, her lips set in a determined line. Then she nodded.

"Fine. Then I'll sleep here, too."

"No, you-"

Beth sat next to her before she could finish, smiling brightly. Her eyes were wide and innocent and so goddamn blue, and Mason felt her will crumble.

"Oh, stop giving me that look, you…angelic charlatan."

 _Angelic charlatan? What the fuck is this, a Jane Austen novel?_

Beth laughed. "Come on."

She slipped her fingers through Mason's and pulled her to her feet. Her skin was surprisingly soft even after life on the road, but there was something rough along her wrist…

"Top or bottom?"

Mason looked up sharply. "What?"

"Which bunk do you want?"

"Oh." Her cheeks flushed with heat. "Bottom's fine."

Beth smiled, and Mason couldn't tell exactly what twinkled in her eyes but she thought it might be amusement. She waited until Beth climbed into her bunk to settle into her own, and though it was small it was much more comfortable than anything she could remember sleeping in in months. She closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, the cell was dark. She shook her head, disoriented, and realized that she must have slept without nightmares for the first time since…

She flinched away from the thought. Memory served no purpose, except to hollow you out. But of course she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep so, restless and frustrated, she crept out of bed and into the cell block.

Everything was silent, without the forest whispers she had grown used to on the run. It made the back of her neck prickle. The woods only fell silent under death's shadow.

 _We cleared this place,_ she thought. _Everything's okay._

And she knew it was true. Rick had locked them into this cell block only after they had double-checked that there was no unexpected company.

But everything was so different, and it had all changed so suddenly. Three months without any human interaction, three months of nightmares, three months weighing the benefits of life against the benefits of death- and now here she was, pledging this indefinite part of her life to strangers. It made everything feel uncertain, rocky terrain on a moonless night.

She tiptoed past Rick slumped against the wall and climbed the stairs to the perch. Daryl was curled up there with one hand on his crossbow. Mason smirked as she sneaked past him to the window.

Her uncertainty eased when she saw the world outside, contoured by the light of the moon. Even the bodies in the yard were beautiful. She wished that it were possible to be outside and enjoy the night, like she had in another life. She longed for a private world that belonged only to her and her music and the silver blush of midnight…

"What are you doing?"

The voice came quietly but she still jumped. When she turned she caught a glint of moonlight in Daryl's eyes and it reminded her of the time she got lost in the woods and crossed paths with a mountain lion.

"I couldn't sleep," she said. "Sorry I woke you."

He shook his head. "I'm keeping watch."

"But we're locked in here."

"And you think that makes us safe?"

He watched her with eyes that knew too much, eyes that observed everything, and she knew he saw the truth in hers.

"No," she said.

They lapsed into silence. His eyes never left her face. The awkwardness made her skin prickle warmly.

"Well," she said when she could stand it no longer, "guess I'll just scoot on out of here."

He stepped back to let her edge past him, but as her foot touched the stairs she heard his voice again.

"What were you doing out there in the woods?"

She stopped. She didn't look at him in case she couldn't keep her expression together, but the pain was in her voice, too, and she was sure he heard it.

"Just hollering to some old demons."


	3. Heavenly Father

Note: Hello, all! This week's song is "Heavenly Father" by Bon Iver, and if you have the time I think you should totally listen to it. It may not be your cup of tea, but if it is then it will be THE cup of tea. If that makes sense. It might not, I'm like, half asleep as I write this. Anyway, please read on and tell me what you think!

3\. Heavenly Father

"Go back, _go back_!"

The group, scrunched up at yet another corner of the prison's labyrinthine corridors, hastily backed up. Mason was in the lead with Rick and Daryl, and just past them she could see the cluster of walkers that had caught their scent.

"Shit," she hissed. She raised her fire poker just as Glenn pulled her back by the sleeve.

"Come on, we have to go!" he said.

They took off running, stumbling over dead bodies and running into each other in the dark. Mason wished, as she rammed into T-Dog's broad figure for the third time, that there'd been enough flashlights to go around.

The snarls of the walkers hounded them onward as they followed the spray-painted arrows back the way they'd come. Faster than all of them, Mason took the lead and very nearly ran into a second group of walkers as she turned a corner.

" _Shit_!"

Teeth snapped just inches from her nose. Fetid breath burned her nostrils, making her gag. She stumbled backward just as Daryl grabbed her arm and yanked her away.

The group turned down a third hallway. It led them deeper into the prison, away from the exit, but there was no other choice. The walkers were closing in from both sides.

After what felt like an eternity in the dark, Rick pulled them all to a halt against the wall.

"Where are Glenn and Maggie?" he said, and for the first time she realized that the two were not with them. Fear splintered in her chest.

"We have to go back for them," Hershel said.

Rick nodded and all of them tensed, waiting for their opportunity. When the sound of the walkers faded Mason and T-Dog leaned out into the hall, weapons ready, and motioned for the others to follow.

They kept their voices low, calling out Glenn's and Maggie's names at regular intervals in the dark. Rick and Daryl took the lead and Hershel fell back, checking every shadow. Mason's heart pounded at the look on his face.

"Maggie?" she hissed. "Glenn?"

There was nothing but silence, aside from the whispers of the others.

And then she heard the scream.

She turned around so fast her ankle nearly gave out beneath her. Rick and Daryl shot past her. When she caught her balance she followed with T-Dog on her heels.

Hershel was the first thing she saw, writhing on the ground with a walker attached to his leg. Her stomach dropped to the floor. She rushed futilely for him but Rick beat her to it, cleaving the walker's head in two, and then there was Glenn, and Maggie wailing for her father, and suddenly everything was too hot, too close. It was hard to breathe.

" _NO! DADDY!_ "

Maggie shook violently as Glenn and Rick swept Hershel to his feet. They tried to carry him back in the direction they had come from, but the walkers, alerted to the noise, shambled around the corner, hasty with hunger.

"Go back, go back, move!" Rick said and the group rushed deeper into the prison.

Daryl and Mason fell back behind the others, weapons aimed at the walkers who kept up a frighteningly even pace. They must have been half-starved. Their teeth clacked relentlessly, hands swiping whenever they got too close. Mason took a few of them down but it did no good, and before she knew it they were coming to a dead end.

"The door, get the door!"

T-Dog reached for her fire poker and she handed it over without question. One of the walkers swiped at her hair and she kicked his legs out from under him. In the background there was the loud clang of metal, and then the doors ahead were swept open. Daryl and Mason pressed after them, only closing the doors once everyone else was inside.

Mason barely registered that they had made it to the cafeteria. Her heart was thudding so fast it felt like her blood was flying in her veins. T-Dog slid her fire poker through the door handles, and though the walkers pressed in earnest they could not find a way to break them open. Still, T-Dog stood close to the doors and tossed Mason his gun in exchange for her unavailable weapon.

Assured that they were at least relatively safe, Mason hovered closer to where the others crouched on the floor around Hershel. Now that they were stopped she could smell the blood, and her lungs clenched tighter in her chest. She breathed through her mouth instead.

Everyone tensed with new purpose when Rick fumbled for his belt. Realization dawned quick and clear for Mason, too, and her knees shook.

 _Ohshitohfuckohshit._

Maggie held her father closer to her as Rick tied the belt around his leg. The blade of his hatchet gleamed ominously in the thin, dusty light.

"There's only one way to keep him alive," Rick said, as though to convince himself, just before bringing the hatchet down on Hershel's leg.

Mason's stomach rolled. Hershel's screams trailed off as the blood gushed from his severed arteries.

"He's bleeding out," Rick said, like he couldn't quite believe what he had done. Mason swayed on her feet, looking anywhere but at the blood spreading toward her feet.

Before anyone could respond, Daryl trained his eyes on something beyond Rick.

"Duck."

Rick crouched down and Daryl stood up, aiming his crossbow at the barrier that cut through the cafeteria. Five figures stood there. Five men with skin that had not rotted and teeth that did not gnash and eyes that were not dead.

"Holy shit," one of them breathed.

Mason aimed her gun without thinking about it, stepping forward to flank Daryl. T-Dog left his post at the door and stood on her left.

"Who the hell are you?" Daryl said.

"Who the hell are _you_?" one of them- a short guy, Hispanic- replied.

Behind them, Rick and the others were paying them no attention.

"He's bleeding out, we have to go," Rick said.

"Come on outta there," Daryl said. "Slow and steady."

He and Mason edged closer to the barred door, where the Hispanic man crept out. His eyes flicked back and forth between them and Hershel.

"What happened to him?"

"He got bit," Daryl growled.

"Bit?"

The man's hand twitched toward the gun tucked in his belt. Mason stepped closer, aiming her gun between his eyes.

"Don't even fucking think about it," she said.

In a flash his gun was out, pointed at her face.

"Whoa, whoa, easy now." Daryl flanked her, so close his arm brushed hers. "Nobody needs to get hurt."

But nobody lowered their weapons.

Suddenly Glenn rushed past them, muttering something about medical supplies. Mason tensed as the Hispanic man followed him with his gun.

"Who the hell are you people?" he said.

A short man with a moustache fidgeted behind him. "Sure as hell don't look like no rescue team."

"We're not," Mason said. She stepped out of the way as Glenn brushed past, pushing a rolling metal table in front of him.

Then Rick was shouting, "We gotta go!" and T-Dog rushed back to open the door. The strangers flinched away, horrified.

"Don't open that!"

"We got this," T replied, and the snarl of a walker cut off with a thud.

Risking a look back, Mason caught a glimpse of Hershel's pale face as they carted him away. Her stomach twisted, heavy and hot.

"Daryl! Mason!" Rick called.

They backed away quickly, keeping their weapons trained on the strangers, and even when the doors swung shut they didn't relax. Flank to flank, they followed the group through the tunnels, unwavering, except when Mason tripped over the arm of a dead walker. Daryl caught her before she could fall, fingers strong and rough around her arm.

Finally, _finally,_ the door to the cell block came into view, but Mason felt no relief at the sight. Her chest felt too tight, like it was squeezing her lungs. Sweat ran down her face, stinging her eyes.

When they reached the common area, Carl unlocked the cell block door and everyone rushed through except her and Daryl. They stood side by side, eyes on the tunnel door, waiting. Shouts came from the cell block. Mason thought she heard Beth's voice, high with fright, and pain ran through her, iron hot.

The Hispanic man came through the door, stealing her attention. The others trailed in after him.

"That's far enough," Mason growled. The others stopped, but the Hispanic man continued to inch forward.

"Cell block C," he said. "That's my cell block. Let me in."

"Today's your lucky day fellas," Daryl said. "You've been pardoned by the state of Georgia. You're free to go."

"What you got going on in there?"

"That's none of your concern."

The man raised his gun. "The hell it's not."

"Tomas, c'mon," another man- a brick wall of a man- said. "We're free now, why don't we just go?"

"Man's got a point," Daryl said.

"Bunch of civilians breaking into a prison they got no business being in?" Tomas shrugged. "Got me thinking there's no place for us _to_ go."

Mason tensed, her finger poised over the trigger. "Why don't you go find out?"

The mustached man glanced nervously from her to Tomas. "Maybe we should be going…"

"We ain't leaving."

"Like hell you aren't," Mason said.

"This is my house, my rules, and we _ain't leaving_."

"It's our house now, asshole."

"What did you say to me?" Tomas twitched his gun in her direction, eyes gleaming. "You better watch your mouth, you little bitch."

Daryl tensed. "Hey, maybe you listen to her. She knows better about this world than you do."

"This is _my_ world, you people don't belong here."

"We do now."

" _What did I say, bitch_?" Tomas stalked forward until his gun was just a foot away from her forehead. She didn't flinch.

Silent as a shadow, Daryl was there with his crossbow, standing between them. Mason glared over his shoulder; she didn't look away from Tomas and he didn't look away from her.

"Back up," Daryl said. "Or I make this decision for you."

Suddenly there came the sound of the cell door opening and Rick and T-Dog rushed over.

"Hey, hey, everyone back off. There's no need for this."

Tomas glanced at Rick but Mason never broke her stare.

"How many of you are in there?"

"Too many for you to handle," Rick said.

Tomas didn't seem to care about the threat in his voice. His gun stayed frozen on Mason's face and Daryl never moved.

"That guy you chopped up," Tomas said. "Why don't you take him to a hospital?"

Mason stifled a snort. T-Dog and Rick exchanged a glance.

"How long have you been locked in that cafeteria?" Rick said.

Tomas paused. His eyes flicked around suspiciously. "I don't know, like ten months."

"Riot broke out," the mammoth man said. "Never seen anything like it."

One of the little ones, a black man, spoke up. "Heard about dudes going cannibal…dying, coming back to life… Crazy shit."

"One guard looked out for us," Tomas said. "Locked us up in the cafeteria. Told us he'd be right back and gave me this piece."

"That was two hundred and ninety-two days ago," another man- not quite as huge as the mammoth, but huge enough- said. "We keep waiting for the Army or the National Guard to show up any day now."

"There is no Army," Rick said. "There's no government, no hospitals, no police. It's all gone."

The mustached man's eyes bulged. "For real?"

"Serious."

"What about my old lady?" Not-Quite-as-Mammoth Man said. "Hey, you got a cell phone or something so we can call our families?"

"You just don't get it, do you?" Daryl snapped.

"No phones, no computers," Rick said. "As far as we can see at least half the population's been wiped out."

As the news sunk in, eliciting various degrees of shock, Tomas finally lowered his gun. Without looking behind him, Daryl nudged Mason back little by little until she stood between Rick and T-Dog.

After a crackling silence, Tomas shook his head. "Ain't no way," he sneered.

"See for yourself," Rick said.

So they led the prisoners out of the cell block, down into the yard where yesterday they had faced down the walkers. The bodies were still there, evidence to reality. While the prisoners milled uncertainly through the carnage, Mason fell back to exchange weapons with T.

"So what is this, a disease?" Mammoth Man said.

"Yeah. And we're all infected."

With the comforting weight of her fire poker back in her hands, Rick's words had less impact. She already knew this, of course. She'd seen it in action. But the memories welled up in her brain and she felt stronger, better prepared to banish them, with her own weapon.

"What do you mean infected?" Moustache asked. "Like AIDS or something?"

Mason smirked and shook her head. "If I were to jab this through your heart, you'd come back as one of them. It'll happen to all of us someday."

Tomas and the short black man exchanged a glance, and then Tomas looked at Rick.

"Where'd you come from?"

"Atlanta."

Tomas nodded and sauntered closer.

"Where you headed?"

Mason tightened her grip on the poker.

Rick met Tomas's gaze. "For now, nowhere. We took out these walkers, this prison's ours."

"Slow down, cowboy," Tomas scoffed.

"You smashed the locks off _our_ doors," Short Man said.

"We'll give you new locks, if that's how you want it," Rick said.

"This is _our_ prison," Tomas said. "We were here first."

"Locked in a broom closet?" Mason said.

"We took this prison, set you free, it's _ours_ ," Rick said.

"We're moving back into our cell block," Tomas replied.

"You'll have to get your own."

"It _is_ mine. I still got personal artifacts in there, that's about as _mine_ as it gets!"

Tomas pulled out his gun. Mason, Daryl and T-Dog all closed ranks around Rick, weapons ready.

"Whoa, whoa, maybe let's try to make this work out so everybody wins!" Moustache said, stepping between the two groups.

"I don't see that happening," Tomas said.

"Neither do I," Rick said.

Moustache blinked at Tomas. "There _are_ other cell blocks."

"Or you can leave," Daryl said. "Try your luck out on the road."

For a moment, everyone was silent. Mason's heart beat sure and slow, confident now that she felt worlds away from Hershel and the others. This was something she was familiar with. This was something she could fight.

Finally Tomas shrugged. "If these pussies can do all this, the least we can do is take out another cell block. As long as Mister Cowboy, here, lends us some real weapons."

Rick hesitated. "How stocked is that cafeteria?"

"There's only a little left," Tomas said. Mason didn't trust the cold calculation in his eyes.

Neither did Rick. "Then we'll take half," he said. "In exchange, we'll help clear out a cell block."

"Didn't you hear him?" Short Man said. "There's only a little left."

"Bet you got more food than you got choices," Rick replied. "We clear out a block for you, you keep to it."

"Alright," Tomas said.

"But let's be clear." Rick stepped forward, until he was nose to nose with Tomas. "If we see you out here anywhere near our people, if I so much as catch a whiff of your scent, I will kill you."

Tomas didn't back down. There was something in his expression that Mason didn't like.

"Deal."

~m~

Mason went along to help carry back food from the pantry. She could barely keep her mouth from watering as she followed T-Dog back through the tunnels to their cell block, carrying two whole boxes of canned food. It was more food than she could remember seeing in almost a year.

Carl met them at the door, his eyes lighting up at the sight of their cache. "Whatcha got?" he asked.

"Canned beef, canned corn, canned _cans_ ," T answered. "There's a lot more where this came from."

Rick, bringing up the rear, stopped by Hershel's cell, where Lori, Carol and Glenn were gathered. Mason stared straight ahead, following Carl to the cell on the end.

"We'll get this organized, see exactly what we got so we can ration it," she said.

Carl nodded, more excited than she'd ever seen him. "Okay!"

She sat with him for a while, stacking cans and joking about the meals they could make with them.

"How about a…green bean burger?" Carl held the can of green beans up like a torch.

Mason wrinkled her nose. "Oh Christ, I just can't get away from those little green fuckers."

Carl laughed. "Or maybe we could make green bean pudding."

"Hey, kid, don't you get me started on desserts, okay? I would _kill_ someone for a piece of cheesecake right now."

This time Carl wrinkled his nose. Mason gaped at him.

"You don't like cheesecake?"

"I've never had it," Carl admitted. "But cheese and cake just don't belong together."

"You know, there are people who put cheese on apple pie-"

"Ew, _gross_!"

"Mason?"

Mason looked up to see Rick watching her with the strangest expression on his face. She couldn't place it but it made her blush.

"I'll be back, puddin'," she said to Carl and followed Rick to the cell block door.

She waited for him to speak but he was quiet. After a moment he held something out to her, and she realized for the first time that he held her pack.

Hesitantly, she took it. Only then did Rick speak.

"I want you to stay here when we clear out the other cell block."

She frowned. "Rick, you can't trust them-"

"Which is exactly why I want you here. I need someone to stay behind to protect the group. If there are others lurking around I need to know someone's keeping my people safe."

"And you think that someone should be me? Isn't Glenn staying behind?"

"Glenn needs to stay with Maggie. He needs to be there when…" He trailed off, and Mason pretended she didn't know what he was going to say. Then he smiled slightly. "You've already kept them safe. But Carl…Beth…they need you here."

Mason swallowed hard. Her stomach fluttered nervously. "Rick…"

He laid a hand on her shoulder before she could find the words.

"I trust you," he said.

She couldn't decide if she was flattered or terrified. Still she looked him right in the eyes and said, "I'll protect them." Knowing full well what she was promising.

Knowing full well she had promised it before.

He nodded and headed out into the commons area, where Daryl and T-Dog waited. She watched them for a moment, wishing she could go, too.

"Mason?"

The delicate, bell voice sent a shard through her stomach, sharper than ever because even after two days it was already so familiar.

She turned warily to face Beth.

"Can you help me with somethin'?" Her face was clear and calm, but Mason suspected it took a lot of effort to keep it that way.

"Sure."

Beth led her to their cell, where a cluster of pants were piled on the floor. Mason raised an eyebrow.

"They're my dad's," Beth said. "I was hopin' you could help me adjust them. It's gonna be kinda hard for him to walk with one side draggin' on the ground."

Her face was still calm, but her eyes seared through Mason's. She wasn't stupid. But she wasn't a quitter, either. Mason smiled gently.

"Well, we'd better get to work, then."

They worked in silence for a while, ripping the right leg off each pair of pants and setting the torn fabric aside.

"Glenn said they found you in the woods, playin' music."

Mason paused. "Yes."

She knew what was coming next and she wasn't sure how to answer, or if she even wanted to. When Daryl had asked her last night it was all she could do not to break down.

 _You can't even_ think _about it, how the hell do you expect to tell anyone about it?_

Rigid with stress, she waited for Beth to speak.

"What kind of music?"

Mason looked up. Beth appeared as innocent as always, focused on tearing the last ragged strip from a pair of khakis. Her eyes flickered up only briefly, and Mason saw in them nothing but gentle curiosity.

Slowly she smiled. "Cage the Elephant. Ever heard of 'em?"

Beth shook her head.

"I don't really know how to describe them… Redneck alternative, I guess."

"So you're a redneck?"

"Well, I listen to other stuff, too. I'm only forty-five percent redneck. Hmm, let me guess… _you_ listen to Slayer?"

Beth giggled. "No."

"Megadeth?"

"No."

"Slipknot?"

"Nope."

"Really? You look pretty metal to me."

"More like a choir girl."

Mason swallowed hard and looked away from her disarmingly soft face. Thankfully Beth didn't seem to notice.

"I used to sing a lot when I was little," she said. "Folk songs and church songs, anything I heard my family singin'. Used to play piano, too. We had an old upright and my daddy would listen to me no matter how many times he heard the same song…"

She trailed off. Her fingers stilled over the fabric. Ignoring all of her better instincts, Mason laid a hand on Beth's.

"You'll get to sing for him again."

She regretted the words immediately, because when Beth looked at her there was hope in her eyes.

 _You asshole,_ she thought. _Stop promising ridiculous things._

But she _wanted_ it to be a promise. She wanted it to be a promise she could keep. She wanted the hope in Beth's eyes to be rewarded.

"Maggie says we can't count on him wakin' up," Beth said. "But I can't stop hopin'. Daddy deserves better than that."

Tears trailed down her cheeks. Before Mason could stick her foot any further in her mouth, Beth trapped her in a fierce hug.

It took Mason a moment to realize that she should move her arms, hug her back. By the time she did, Beth had already pulled away. But there was a smile on her face and a gleam in her eyes that did strange things to Mason's heart.

"Um," she said. "I should probably check on Carl."

"Okay. I'll go check on Daddy."

Mason nodded absently and scurried away before anyone else could hug her.

Her mind was in such a whirl that at first she didn't register that Carl was gone. All she could picture was Beth's smile, her eyes, the quiet touch of her hand…

Then her heart stopped.

There the food sat, abandoned and unorganized, exactly how it had been before Rick pulled her aside. Carl was nowhere to be seen. Rick's words echoed mockingly in her ears.

 _I trust you._

 _I trust you._

"Fuck me."

Panic made her head dizzy but she tried to think clearly. She hadn't seen Carl pass by her and Beth's cell. She hadn't heard the sound of the cell door creaking open, which she'd been listening for. So he hadn't gone into the tombs.

At least, not the ones they'd cleared.

Her eyes flickered to the other barred door, the one leading to tunnels they hadn't yet explored.

"Fuck me," she said again and grabbed her fire iron.

~m~

These tunnels were just as dark as the ones before. She wished she'd thought to grab a flashlight but she was pretty sure Rick's group had taken them all, anyway.

"Carl?" she whispered. Part of her strained to hear him in the claustrophobic cavern. The other part remained hyper vigilant for the sound of walkers.

Suddenly from a few yards ahead came a muffled growl. Mason raised her fire iron in a baseball stance and quickened her pace. The growl came again, followed by a wet shuffling sound.

"Carl?"

A new growl joined the first, overlapping one another. Mason started to run. From the sound of it, a corner was just ahead…

"Carl!"

Just as she turned the corner, something popped. Mason gasped, recognizing the telltale sound of a silencer.

A light flashed in her face, blinding her. Something growled. Something else hit the floor.

"Mason?"

Blinking against the glare, Mason's eyes landed on Carl a few feet away, with a walker at his feet and another limping toward him.

"Bloody fucking hell."

She strode toward them. Before Carl or the walker could react, she was there, and the poker swung sure and clean through the walker's head.

There was a brief moment of silence, in which Mason checked to make sure there were no more unwelcome visitors. Then she turned a black glare on Carl.

"You're a little fucker, you know that?"

Carl glared back. "I'm just trying to help," he said.

" _Oh_. Okay, yeah, I see it now. You're trying to help the _walkers_. That's sweet of you, kid, but really you're no more than a mouthful."

"I could've taken them on my own. You didn't have to come looking for me."

"Look, it's your own business if you want to get chomped by some flesh-eater, but you do realize that your mom is pregnant, right? Like, ultra pregnant? And that your dad has a horrendously full plate as it is?"

Carl rolled his eyes. "That's why I got this."

He held out a black gym bag and unzipped it. Mason's eyes widened. The bag was filled to the brim with gauze and alcohol swabs and hydrogen peroxide. Carl's expression turned smug.

"Raided the infirmary," he said. "Hershel needs it, and Dad's busy with those prisoners so I got it myself."

Mason nodded, trying to think of something else to say, something else to yell about. But as reckless as he might have been, she couldn't deny the kid was right.

She groaned. "Your mom's going to fucking kill me…"

"No, she won't," Carl said. "This was the right thing to do."

"Uh huh."

"C'mon, we need to get back."

"Okay, but…seriously. You owe me big time. Like, the very last cheesecake on Earth is _mine_ kind of big time, I don't care if you have to fight a pack of ninjas to get it."

Carl grinned. "Deal."

When they got back to the cell block there was still no sign of Rick and the others. Mason sighed inwardly and tried to think of something else, but what else was there to think of but Hershel, and the fact that Lori was likely going to punch her in the throat for letting Carl run off?

Everyone eyed them curiously as they leaned into Hershel's cell. Glenn frowned.

"I thought you two were organizing the food."

"We got something better," Carl said and handed Carol the bag.

She opened it and gasped. "Oh my god."

"Where did you get this?" Lori demanded.

"From the infirmary."

"You went by yourself?"

"Well, Mason followed me but it wasn't a big deal. We took down two walkers."

Mason fidgeted as Lori's eyes flicked to her.

"Do you see this?" she finally said, motioning to Hershel. "This was with the whole group."

"We needed supplies, so I got them," Carl said.

"And I appreciate that, but-"

"Then get off my back!"

"Carl!" Beth said. "She's your mother, you can't talk to her like that."

Carl fell silent, glaring at the floor. Lori reached for him.

"Look, I think it's great that you want to hel-"

Before she could finish, Carl stormed off. Lori drew back, blinking the hurt from her eyes. Then she looked at Mason.

"What the hell were you thinking?" she hissed. "He's a boy. He shouldn't be traipsing around in the dark, looking for walkers."

"You're right, Lori, I'm sor-"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry. I don't want to hear it."

"Lori…" Glenn started, but Mason shook her head.

"No, she's right. I'll, um…just step out."

Awkwardly she backed out of the cell.

Carl was sitting by the food with a sullen expression. She considered joining him but she couldn't think of anything to say, so she leaned against the wall and tried not to think at all.

"Mason?"

Reluctantly she opened her eyes. Carol stood before her, her eyes uncertain but her lips pressed into a determined line.

"Come outside with me," she said. "I need your help with something."

Mason frowned and glanced at Carl. "I should probably stay here…"

"Glenn will keep an eye on things. This won't take long."

"Um. Okay."

She got to her feet and followed Carol outside. When they got to the inner gate, Mason raised an eyebrow.

"So what's up?"

Carol sighed. "I need a walker."

Mason was silent for a moment.

"Well…" she finally said, "…there's plenty of them…"

"I need a female," Carol continued.

"What… _Why_?"

"Lori's overdue. She had Carl by C-section and she's probably gonna have to have this one the same way." She sighed again. "Hershel had a little bit of experience with this kind of thing, but he's not gonna be able to do it anymore."

Mason narrowed her eyes. "He's not dead yet."

"But we need to be prepared for the worst."

"So…you need this walker for practice."

"I need experience."

Carol waited while Mason processed this in silence. The thought itself was stomach-churning, but Mason couldn't help admire her for thinking of it in the first place. It was something Gina would have done…

She smiled darkly. "Well. We have plenty of cadavers."

"My thoughts exactly."

Then Carol smiled, too, a real _Good Housekeeping_ kind of smile, and Mason almost laughed. She was starting to like this woman.

A cluster of walkers had gathered along the outer fence. She studied Carol's face as they walked past each of them, so she saw the slight tightening of her eyes before she stopped and pointed.

"That one."

The walker looked like she had been young when she died. Early twenties, no older than Mason herself. Her yellow dress was dull and splattered with stains. She could have been one of Gina's college buddies…

She shook the thought away. "Okay," she said, and raised the poker.

Carol touched her arm. "No. I'll do it. You distract them so I can get the body."

"Whatever you want, boss."

Mason jogged back the way they had come, trailing the fire iron across the fence while Carol took care of her walker. The others followed her, faces pressed to the chain link in grotesque snarls. When they were far enough away, Mason dispatched them one by one.

By the time she returned, Carol had dragged the body through the hole in the fence and was tying up the wires again. Mason hefted the walker into her arms and they made their way back to the yard.

"You shouldn't take it too personal," Carol said. "That thing with Lori. I think she just…has a lot of regrets."

Mason looked at her curiously but she didn't press the issue. A few more steps and then Carol stopped.

"I'll do it here," she said.

Mason laid the body on the ground. Carol pulled a wad of dark leather from her belt and opened it. The sun glinted off the blade of a shiny scalpel.

"Um…" Mason said. "Do you need any help?"

"No, at this point it's just a matter of perfecting the procedure. You go check on Beth."

Mason prickled uncomfortably. Check on Beth? Why just Beth? Beth wasn't her priority. She wasn't babysitting Beth.

Carol laid a hand on her arm, jolting her from her thoughts. "Thank you for your help." She smiled again, but this one was sweeter.

"Of course," Mason mumbled. "No problem."

Carol turned back to her cadaver and Mason scurried back inside.

She noticed the change in atmosphere immediately when she entered the cell block, the excited murmuring coming from Hershel's cell. Her heart leapt into her throat and sat there, poised on the edge of hope and fear. She hurried to the cell.

Everyone was gathered inside. Carl had returned, and he gave her a wide smile as she approached.

"Hershel's awake," he said.

Her knees felt watery. "He is?" she breathed, too quiet for anyone to hear. Cautiously she leaned around Glenn for a better look.

Maggie and Beth were crouched at Hershel's bedside, crying and holding each other. Hershel didn't say anything, his face drawn with exhaustion, but he watched them with his gentle, loving eyes and it was enough.

Mason smiled. Her throat felt tight, but a weight was gone from her lungs. She breathed a fuller breath than she had since Hershel's first scream.

"What's going on?"

Everyone turned. Rick stood by the cell door, spattered with blood. Daryl and T-Dog hovered further back. At the sight of all three of them, still fully intact, her lungs shed more weight.

"Hershel woke up," Carl said.

Rick looked at Hershel for the first time. His whole expression changed. The despair vanished, the distance vanished. His eyes looked wider, softer with disbelief.

Slowly he edged past everyone else to kneel next to Hershel, and that look never left his face. For the first time Beth glanced over at Mason, grinning ear to ear, tears glistening on her cheeks.

The smile froze on Mason's face. Her stomach flipped over. Suddenly she was very aware of every body in the room, the heat of their combined heartbeats. Trying to be subtle about it, she backed out of the cell.

 _Get a grip,_ she thought as she leaned against the wall. _Get a goddamn fucking grip._

But she couldn't seem to listen to her own advice. And she was pretty sure she was fucked either way.

Because she could feel herself slipping. She could feel the walls she'd put so much time and determination into crumbling. Unconsciously, she had betrayed herself.

You couldn't care for people in this world. That lesson had been driven home, more so than anything else. More than she knew to aim for a walker's head, more than she knew to avoid strange men on the road, more than she knew waking up every morning was both a blessing and a liability, she knew _this._

Caring for people…loving them…

That was the real killer.

 _You don't care about these people,_ she told herself. _You just fucking met them._

But it wasn't the whole truth. She was very good at denying things until they met her at the surface.

"Mason."

She jumped, startled to see that Rick had left the cell and was watching her. She wondered what he saw on her face.

"Oh, hey. How'd it go with the prisoners?"

"You were right," he said simply. He didn't sound surprised.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Two of them will live in the cell block next to us."

She didn't ask what had happened to the other three.

"Thank you," Rick said.

"For what?"

"For keeping them safe."

Mason shook her head. "No, I… Carl-"

"Yeah, I know what happened," Rick said. "Lori told me you went after him. Helped him take down two walkers."

"I shouldn't have let him go at all."

"Hey."

Rick laid a hand on her shoulder. He caught her gaze and held it. "You went after him," he said. "You didn't have to do that."

She didn't know what to say, so she kept her mouth shut.

After a long pause, Rick said, "You can stay. If you want to."

This time she didn't try to hide her reaction. She gaped at him, her heart pounding so hard in her chest she was sure it would burst right through.

She had to tell him no. She needed to tell him no.

She hated the part of her that wanted to tell him yes.

When she still hadn't said anything, Rick patted her shoulder. "Think about it," he said. Then he headed for the catwalk, leaving her alone against the wall.


	4. Life Itself

Note: Hey, all! This week's chapter is inspired by Glass Animals' "Life Itself". If you haven't heard it, change your life for the forever and give it a listen.

4\. Life Itself

Mason pulled herself higher into the tree, crouching in a v between the trunk and the branch. The day was hot and the sun rode heavily on her shoulders. A bead of sweat trickled down her spine.

For a long time the forest was silent, without even a whisper of wind. She stayed very still, ignoring the ache in her exhausted legs, and kept one ear out for approaching walkers.

It was at least half an hour before she heard it, the delicate, prancing steps she'd been waiting for. Quickly she raised her hickory bow and nocked an arrow, and a few seconds later the deer came into view.

It was small, but her mouth watered at the thought of all the meals it would make. Silently she took aim.

The deer paused a few feet away, nose in the air. Catching her scent, like she figured it would. It couldn't find her, however, and after a moment it began to forage.

Mason breathed out slowly and loosed her arrow.

It flew right over the deer's head and a good foot to the side, and impaled a small tree. The deer turned to flee.

" _Fuck_!"

She jumped from the tree, catching a few slaps to the face as the branches whipped past her. She knew as she landed that her chances of running it down were slim. Maybe in her prime, before her knee injury, but now…

She swore again under her breath as the deer loped away…and then tumbled to the ground. The yellow fletching on the arrow in its eye looked almost neon in the sun.

Mason rolled her eyes. "Show-off."

Daryl emerged from the trees as she made her way to the kill. He pointed to the quiver at her hip.

"Let me see."

Reluctantly she handed him an arrow. "What did I do wrong this time?"

"Wood's too flexible. See?" He bent the shaft to show her.

"You never said anything about that. You said it couldn't be too stiff."

He shrugged. "Could also be that you have the aim of a one-eyed squirrel."

"Well, you would know all about those, wouldn't you?"

He snorted. "C'mon. Let's get this back to camp. I'll show you how to clean it."

Mason sighed and helped him lift the deer. Together they carried the deer back through the woods, pausing only to retrieve Mason's other arrow.

"We don't need to be telling everyone we're here," he said when she raised an eyebrow. "Even if your arrow is shit."

She sighed again. "I guess I can recycle the fletching."

When they returned to the prison, Glenn was waiting for them at the gate. His eyes popped wide when he saw their catch.

"Well this'll be a nice change," he said.

"Yeah. Give us a break from all those fucking beans," Mason muttered.

Glenn laughed. "Why do you hate beans so much?"

"Oh, I don't know, I guess it's just that they're _little devil shit nuggets_. Which must be why they're the only goddamn readily available food in the apocalypse."

"I'll be sure to gift some to you for your birthday."

"Thanks, buddy."

The bodies in the yard were stacked higher than they had been this morning. As she watched, Rick and T-Dog came around the corner of the guard tower, each carrying a bloated walker.

"I see you caught some, too," she hollered. "We'll have a feast."

Glenn threw her a disgusted look, but Rick and T-Dog lit up at the sight of the deer.

"Oh, _hell_ yes, it's about time we got some real protein!" T-Dog said, tossing his walker haphazardly onto the pile.

Rick followed more sedately. "Did you catch that?" he asked her.

"Uh…in my heart of hearts I did…"

Rick grinned. "Still can't get those arrows right, huh?"

"This is the third time this week," Daryl said.

Mason scowled. "Did anyone ever think that maybe it's not me, it's the person teaching me?"

"We might think that," Rick said, "if the person teaching you hadn't caught the deer."

"Oh, yeah, ha ha, get the fucking door."

Mason and Daryl cleaned the deer in the commons area. She had to admit that he was a surprisingly patient teacher for such a grump. Once it was quartered, they took the meat they intended to dry, salted it and laid it out in the sun.

When they were done, Mason said, "Alright. I'm heading out again. I'll take my poker this time."

Daryl peered at her. "Why?"

"Because my arrows are shit."

"No, why are you going out again? We found enough for today."

She thought about reminding him that there was never enough, but of course he knew that. So instead she said, "Well I heard Lori talking about how much she was craving a Whatchamacallit so I'm gonna see if I can hunt one up. The good thing about them being the most underrated candy bar in existence is that there's probably lots of them now."

"You're going out alone for a candy bar?"

"It's no big deal. I went out alone yesterday, too."

Daryl was silent for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip. Finally, he nodded. "Well, I'll go with you."

"You don't have to-"

"What else have I got to do today? C'mon, let's go tell Rick."

They found Rick in Hershel's cell along with Maggie and Beth. She could feel Beth's eyes on her so, coward that she was, she busied herself with retying her shoe.

"You're going out again?" Rick said. "What for?"

Mason hesitated, wishing she'd thought up a lie, but Daryl replied without looking at her.

"We'll need firewood to burn the bodies in the yard. It'll take a little time to gather so we figured we'd get a head start."

Rick nodded thoughtfully. "Okay," he said. "Do you want someone to go with you?"

"Nah, we'll take our guns. Mason's a better shot with that than the bow."

Mason ground her teeth but let it slide. Beth was still watching her, and it made the blush coloring her cheeks that much worse.

Once they okay'd it with Rick, Daryl and Mason headed for the cell where the weapons were piled on an empty cot. They grabbed their guns and Daryl his crossbow, but when he handed her the hatchet she stared at him.

"May as well bring back some wood," he said. "That way our story checks out."

She narrowed her eyes but said nothing, tucking the hatchet in her belt.

Once they were clear of the outer fence, Daryl turned to Mason. She stared back, confused by the expectant look on his face.

"…You want a picture or something?" she finally said.

"I'm just following your lead, boss," Daryl replied.

"Oh." Suddenly she felt self-conscious. "Well, um, I guess I was just planning on heading southeast? There's this little gas station there. I mean, it looks like people have already been there but it didn't look completely looted."

He nodded. "Okay." Then he stepped back and motioned for her to take the lead.

They travelled in silence for a while, taking down few walkers. The day was still and muggy, an omen if Mason ever saw one on what the summer would be like. She sighed and wiped the sweat from her brow.

"We'll come to a stream soon," Daryl said.

"How do you know?"

He crouched and pointed. "Look."

At first she had no idea what he was talking about, but slowly she began to see.

"Tracks?" she said.

"Rabbit, looks like," he said. "And see over here- this one's another deer. Water's not far."

And he was right. A few yards ahead and down a steep ravine they came to a stream. She saw no animals, but the tracks in the mud looked fresh.

She grinned. "Hell yes."

They washed the sweat from their faces and filled up their water bottles. Mason looked at Daryl curiously.

"How'd you learn to track?"

He didn't reply at first, and Mason wondered if she'd crossed some sort of line. Finally he shrugged.

"How'd you learn to hate beans so much?"

She smirked. "How about this? If I answer, you answer. No bullshit, no exceptions."

"What makes you think I won't bullshit you?"

"Because you have many talents, Daryl Dixon, but lying is not one of them."

He snorted. "Fine. But let's get moving. I don't want to waste sunlight hanging about."

They started off again. Mason jumped into her answer immediately.

"We were pretty poor growing up, so beans were something my mom could fix easily and cheaply. When we started having beans for breakfast, that's when I really started to hate them. Your turn."

"My brother taught me. Merle."

"I didn't know you had a brother."

"Guess it doesn't surprise me nobody mentioned him." His voice was gruff, but not from anger.

"They knew him?"

"You ate beans for breakfast?"

Mason gave him a dirty look.

"You said I only had to answer if you did."

She heaved an exaggerated sigh and said, "Yes. Scrambled beans, bean waffles, beans sunny-side up… You know, breakfast of champions."

Daryl's lips twitched- the closest she had ever seen him come to smiling. It disappeared quickly.

"Yeah, the group knew Merle," he said. "Knew him before they knew Rick."

"What…um, happened to him?"

"What were you doing that day in the woods?"

Mason stiffened. She supposed she should have seen it coming. Daryl took the lead without looking at her, which she appreciated. She was never sure if the grief showed on her face or not, but she couldn't imagine that it didn't bleed through.

"I already told you," she muttered.

"Thought we weren't gonna bullshit each other."

"It's not bullshit."

Daryl waited in silence for her answer but she couldn't bring herself to speak. Her throat felt too tight, constricting around words like barbs. And then they were clear of the trees, emerging on the side of a dirt road. The gas station was just a ways off. She took the opportunity to change the subject.

"We won't stay long," Mason said. "I told Carol I'd help her look for skullcap or something like it. For when Lori delivers the baby."

Daryl gave her a strange look, the same look he'd given her when she said she was heading out again. She took the lead again before he could speak.

The glass front door had been smashed in, but whoever ransacked it hadn't done a thorough job. There were chips and soda cans and gum packets strewn across the floor. Once they had checked for walkers, Daryl held their backpack open and Mason piled everything she could inside.

Then her eyes alighted on a box of candy bars in tan wrapping.

"Fuck yeah," she said and grabbed the whole box.

"That it?" Daryl said.

"Sure as shi-"

Before she could finish, cold, rotted fingers caught her by the elbow. She jumped, dropping the box and scattering the candy bars. Yanking forward, she reached for her gun with her other hand and the walker shambled after her. Its fingers never loosened their grip on her arm. She could hear the clacking of its teeth right behind her ear.

An arrow flew through the air just an inch past her skull. Blood splashed the back of her neck. The hand fell away from her elbow and she stumbled away.

There was a beat of silence, and then Daryl was in her face.

"Why don't you check first before you get yourself bit?"

" _Excuse me_? I'm sorry, I thought we cleared this place together. Didn't realize it was just up to me."

"You're the one who wanted to come out here in the first place."

"Yeah, and I didn't hold a fucking gun to your head. I could've made it out here just fine by myself."

"Yeah, you would've made it real damn fine. Or are you still tryin' to kill yourself?"

The gasp she uttered was so small it was nearly soundless, but it felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She stared at him while his words replayed in her head, setting her thoughts on fire.

"You…fuck you," she breathed.

He snorted. "Grab your damn candy bars. I'll be outside."

He stalked out the front door. She stood there for a long time while the pain ripped through her, trying to stuff it back into the cage she kept it in. Finally, when her head hurt from keeping in the tears, she gathered up the scattered candy bars and strode outside.

Daryl was leaning against the wall waiting for her. She walked past him without a glance and headed for the woods, not bothering to see if he followed.

She set a quick pace. Branches stung her face and a couple times she tripped in her haste, but she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead and never said a word.

"Hey."

His voice made her teeth clench.

"Mason."

She tried to tune him out and debated whether or not to start jogging despite her bum knee.

" _Mason_."

A hand caught her arm. She whipped around to face him.

" _What_?"

His face was wary but no longer angry. "We should stop," he said. "Gather some firewood."

She said, "You know what? I don't even give a shit." But she took out the hatchet and set to work all the same.

Mason could feel his eyes on her while they worked but she ignored him. Her anger had dulled a bit, but it left behind an ache that worried her broken edges. All she wanted was to curl up on her cot and sleep the rest of the day.

"He was a prick sometimes."

Mason paused with an armful of kindling. She looked unwillingly at Daryl, who was looking at her.

"Huh?"

"My brother," he said. "He was acting up when Rick found the group in Atlanta. Putting them in danger. Rick left him handcuffed to the roof of a building."

She didn't want to feel shocked. She didn't want to feel anything. But in the end she couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged, a little too indifferent. "Rick went back for him… He wasn't there." He paused, like there was more to say, but if there was he didn't say it.

Mason stared down at her feet. She knew what she was going to say next and she knew it was going to be painful, but maybe it was okay. Maybe she could get the words out this time.

There were worse things she could admit to.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself," she said. "At least…not…exactly."

She swallowed, afraid to look up and see Daryl's expression.

"I could've put a bullet in my brain…run myself through with the fire iron…but I didn't."

No need to tell him it was because she was too chickenshit to do it herself.

"I was just…seeing what fate had to say about it."

The silence that followed felt heavier than the humidity. She shuffled her feet, wondering if she should look up, wondering if she should say something else. Her limbs felt watery. Her heart thundered in her chest. Strange how confessing this could have brought on the adrenaline when she was literally living in a world of flesh-eating savages.

Slowly she raised her head. Daryl was watching her, and she couldn't quite read his expression but his eyes were soft.

"I'm sorry," he said. "About earlier."

"It's alright." She swiped an arm across her face, refusing to believe the wetness on her cheeks was tears. "You can't help it that you're an ass."

Daryl's lips twitched. She managed a small smile in return and then she sighed.

"We should get back. They'll start to worry."

He nodded. "Some of us will come out tomorrow and gather some more."

"I'll come, too."

"Nah, you stay at the prison. You've done enough."

"I'm perfectly capable-"

"Yeah, you are, but you've been runnin' yourself ragged. What, you think I haven't noticed?"

Mason shrugged uncomfortably. "I'm just trying to help out."

"That's not the whole reason."

And now she didn't know what to say because he was right. She was really starting to resent how observant he was.

"Come on," she muttered. "Let's get back."

Carol and T-Dog met them outside the fence, each carrying handfuls of purple flowers. Mason stopped when she saw them. Carol smiled and held up the flowers.

"Found a whole grove of skullcap just to the east," she said.

"I thought…you and I-"

"Oh, it's okay. Rick told us you guys were out."

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't worry about it, it's all taken care of. Oh, and I think Beth's been waiting for you."

Mason flinched and her heart fluttered nervously. From the corner of her eye she saw Daryl glance at her. She ignored him.

"Okay," she said. "Thanks."

In the yard, Glenn and Maggie were trying to get a fire going for dinner. Mason gave them a few pieces of wood and headed inside.

Rick opened the cell block door. "How'd everything go?"

Mason was eternally grateful when Daryl answered.

"Alright. I'll take some people out tomorrow and gather some more."

"You find anything else?"

"Uh…yeah," Mason said. "Where's Lori?"

"She's with Hershel."

Of course it was too much to hope that Beth wouldn't be there, too. Her eyes lit up as soon as Mason walked in.

"Hey, Mason!"

"Hey, Beth." She kept her voice low so as not to wake Hershel, who was snoring loudly. "Lori, I have something for you."

Shyly she presented the candy bars and Lori's eyes widened in shock.

"Where did you find these?" She grabbed one and held it like it was the most fragile, precious thing in the world. Mason might have smiled any other day.

"A little gas station not far from here," she said. "I thought it would be a nice treat. You know, after all the canned food."

Lori looked up and smiled. "Thank you, Mason. Not just for this. For all you've been doing for the group."

Mason nodded, cheeks burning, and mumbled something she hoped could be deciphered as "you're welcome" before slipping out of the cell.

"Mason, wait."

 _Son of a bitch_.

She turned, hoping the calm smile wouldn't mangle on her face. "Yeah, Beth? You need something?"

"I just feel like I haven't seen you lately."

No need to mention that there was a reason for that.

"Oh. Yeah, sorry about that I just…want to do what I can. You know, for Lori and your dad and everything…"

"We really appreciate it," Beth said. "But you should take a break for a bit. You've been goin' nonstop all week."

"I do take breaks."

"Sleepin' doesn't count. You toss and turn all night anyway."

Mason frowned. "I do not!"

"You do, too. What did you think those circles under your eyes were from?"

"I don't know. Maybe you punch me in my sleep?"

Beth's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Relax tonight," she said. "Tomorrow we should go for a walk or somethin'."

The thought made her stomach churn anxiously. "W-well, um-"

Then Rick appeared, saving her from coming up with something halfway coherent. "Mason? Could I talk to you for a minute?"

Mason nodded, said a quick good-bye to Beth and followed Rick to a corner secluded from the others. She was only partly curious about what he had to say. Mostly she was just glad to be away from Beth and the disconcerting effect she had on her nerves…

"What's up?"

Rick's face was serious, concerned. "Have you thought about my offer?" he said.

 _Fuck me softly, Satan, I'm in hell._

"Oh," she said. "Well, I mean, I've _thought_ about it, for sure…"

"Daryl told me what you did for Lori."

Mason nodded. "Mm-hmm…?" Her eyes flickered to Daryl, who was watching from the perch steps.

"Mm-hmm. Mason, look at me."

Unwillingly she dragged her eyes back to his.

"I know you want to stay," he said. "I've seen all the things you've been doing for us, we all have. You want to stay."

She swallowed hard. "I…" _I can't stay. I can't._ "I'm just trying to make up. For stealing from you."

"Your debt's been repaid ten times over and I think you know that," Rick said. "It isn't guilt keeping you here, you _want_ to stay."

So Daryl wasn't the only one too perceptive for his own good.

"So stay."

She wanted to tell him that it wasn't that easy. She wanted to ask him how he could possibly tell her to make her heart vulnerable when his own family dangled on a string. Most of all she wanted to say _okay_. She wanted to say okay and _be_ okay but she couldn't, and that was the moment she knew.

She had made up her mind.

"You're right. I do want to stay," she murmured. "Um, Rick? Could I… have a minute to myself?"

Rick smiled softly. "See you at dinner."

She nodded and headed for her cell. As she passed by Daryl she turned to him and murmured, "Tell them I wasn't feeling well."

He opened his mouth but she didn't stop to listen.

Luck was on her side. Beth was back with her father so she had the cell all to herself. Curling up on her cot, she put on her headphones and turned the music up loud enough to drown the outside world but not her thoughts. She had some planning to do if she was going to leave.

She wasn't going to make a big event of it, so sneaking away seemed best. Under cover of night, of course.

 _Tonight,_ she thought. It was more painful than she imagined it would be.

She wouldn't take anything with her except her own belongings. Everything else she would leave for the group. She knew how to scavenge and, thanks to Daryl, she knew a little bit about hunting. She would be fine. And if not, it was just fate.

~m~

She didn't know when she started to drift off, but it must have been dinnertime because she could just catch a faint whiff of smoke. She wasn't in her cot anymore. She was sitting in the front seat of an old rundown Cadillac and it was raining. The smoke smell persisted but she couldn't remember where it was coming from, and in any case it didn't matter. There was something more immediate claiming her attention.

Outside, in the woods. Voices. Shouting. The sound made her stomach roll sickly. She knew those voices. One of them was so familiar it set the fracture line in her heart to burning.

" _Gina_." Her voice came out as a croak, too weak to make any real noise. Her knees trembled as she stumbled out of the car. She had to get to Gina. She could change things, but she had to get to Gina…

The rain came down cold and hard. Her skin stung as she slogged into the trees, her legs dream-heavy and frustratingly slow.

"Gina!" she called. She couldn't put enough force behind it, but somehow Gina still heard her.

" _Mason! Help me!_ "

" _Gina!_ "

She tried to hurry, tried to run, but there were too many trees and the rain weighed down her clothes and it took every ounce of her strength just to keep moving.

" _Mason, please! Help!_ "

"I'm coming, Gina!"

She was getting closer. She could smell…something.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. She recognized the smell just as Gina's last scream tore the night right open.

" _MASON-!_ "

But the scream cut off with a thick choking sound, and something thudded to the ground, and it was blood, _blood_ that she smelled, and she knew she was too late but she kept running anyway. If she stopped…if she let herself…it would mean the end.

"Mason."

The voice that came then was no louder than a whisper, but it still permeated her whole being. She kept running because she had to, but the voice muted everything else.

"Mason, it's okay."

Tears rolled down her cheeks, blazing hot compared to the rain. "Gina," she rasped. But it wasn't Gina…

"I'm right here."

The rain faded. The forest faded. She was back in her cell at the prison, her face wet with tears. The sudden switch was staggering, and it took her a moment to realize that she felt much more warm and snuggly than she had before.

Someone was holding her.

"It's okay," the voice said again.

 _Beth._

She jerked in shock and Beth's arms tightened around her. Warm breath tickled Mason's ear.

"Don't worry, I'm here."

She should let her know she was awake. She should say something, do something. How long had she been asleep anyway? If she was going to leave tonight she had to move.

But...

Beth was so warm. Safe. She felt more solid in Beth's arms, like she was holding all her broken pieces together.

Against her better judgment, she relaxed.

One more night with the group wouldn't kill her. She wasn't strong enough to stay, but she would find an opportunity tomorrow and take it. For now she was content to melt in Beth's embrace and pretend that she was okay.

She closed her tired eyes. Beth hummed low and sweet, and the sound followed her into sleep.

~m

" _Come back down to my knees,_

 _gotta get back, gotta get free._

 _Come back down to my knees,_

 _be like them, lean back and breathe._ "


	5. Happy

Note: Hello, all! This week's chapter was inspired by two songs: "Happy" by Robert DeLong for the title, and "Screen" by twenty one pilots. I think (or rather hope?) that if you listen to either of them they will bring you the same bittersweet joy that they bring to me. Also, for those of you still trying to recover from that life-sucking seventh season premiere, we will come through it together (I mean that jokingly, but also...not really...haha)

5\. Happy

When she woke in the morning she knew exactly whose arms were around her, and exactly why it shouldn't make her happy. She fidgeted, hoping to roll her way gently out of Beth's arms, but Beth just murmured sleepily and tightened her grip.

Well, fuck.

Mason lay still after that and stared at the wall. She could just see her iPod lying on the floor, about a foot out of her reach. She sighed lightly. Of course.

Outside the sky began to lighten from black to steel blue. Mason wished she was out there in the cool dawn air. It was starting to get hot with Beth cuddled up against her…

"Mason."

 _Hallelujah._

"Beth, you awake?"

Silence. Mason swiveled her head to try and see Beth's face, but all she caught was a wisp of blonde hair.

"Beth?"

"Mmm."

Beth buried her nose in the back of her neck and Mason shivered. Her breathing tickled but she tried not to move.

"Mason…s'okay…okay…"

She blinked. Beth was dreaming about her. She didn't know why, but the realization made her eyes prick, like they wanted to tear. Her heart swelled with warmth.

After a while she began to hear voices murmuring and mattresses squeaking as the others stirred. She was just beginning to wonder if she shouldn't try waking Beth again when the arms holding her shifted.

"Mmm…Mason?"

She smiled a little. "You awake this time?"

"Nope," Beth mumbled, nudging the nape of her neck with her nose. Mason tried not to squirm.

"What time is it?"

Mason looked at her wrist. "Sometime."

"Right. Stupid question." Beth relinquished her hold on Mason and sat up, rubbing her eyes. "I guess I meant where's the sun?"

"The sky."

Beth glared. "Now you're just tryin' to test me."

"Ooh, look who's a grump in the morning."

"Well I'm sorry, but I didn't get a whole lot of sleep last night."

Mason flinched. She'd been trying very hard not to remember _why_ Beth had slept in her bunk last night, but now the dream flooded back. Gina in the woods, calling for help, and Mason too slow to reach her…

"Oh, no, I…I didn't mean it like that." Beth laid a hand on Mason's arm. "C'mon. You wanna take a walk with me?"

Mason clenched her teeth. Well, when she put it that way, what else could she say? _No, I'd rather walk off a cliff?_

"Uh, sure."

And Beth's eyes lit up like fireworks. Mason wanted to groan. It wasn't _fair._

"Great! I'll just go check on Daddy first."

As soon as Beth left, Mason crawled out of bed to check on her iPod. The battery was low, but she tucked it in her pocket anyway.

When she left the cell, Daryl was waiting for her. He appraised her silently. She couldn't read his expression.

"Here."

He held what looked like a wrapping of newspaper out to her. Curiously she opened it. Inside there was a thick hunk of smoked venison. Mason's mouth watered.

"Thought you'd be hungry after missing dinner," Daryl said.

She nodded without looking at him. Was she tearing up again? What kind of pantywaist was she?

"Thanks," she mumbled.

"Okay!" Beth appeared at her side. "You ready to go?"

"Go?" Daryl looked from her to Mason with something like suspicion. "Where are you two goin'?"

"Mason and I are gonna take a walk before my daddy wakes up," Beth said.

"A walk?"

His tone was almost scornful and it nettled. Mason glared at him flatly. "Yeah, you know that funny thing that happens when you put one foot in front of the other?"

Beth snickered.

"You gonna be outside the fence? Just the two of you?"

 _Just the two of you_. Mason swallowed and tried to ignore a sudden wave of nerves.

"Yes," Beth answered. "Is that a problem?"

Daryl shook his head gruffly. "Mason can take care of herself. But a few of us are headin' out to get more firewood so if ya'll stay close we'll be in hollering distance, just in case."

"Okay, thanks," Mason said. She was still chewing over the whole "two of you" thing.

Daryl followed them out, where Rick, T-Dog and Carol had gathered by the gate.

T-Dog smiled brightly. "Good morning, ladies. Mason, are you coming with us?"

"No, Beth and I are just going for a little walk."

"Oh, good."

" _Oh, good_?" Mason said. Something in her expression had Rick and Carol chuckling. She tried not to think about it. "What's that supposed to mean?"

T-Dog grinned even wider. "I just meant, like, 'oh, good, we can finally catch a break from that Mason chick'."

"Right, of course. It's my face, isn't it?"

"It's totally your face." He reached out and ruffled her hair.

"You better watch your mouth, sunshine," she said. Daryl smirked.

The day was warm but not quite as hot as the day before. Mason made sure Beth had both knife and handgun before slipping through the hole in the outer fence.

"You're as bad as my sister," Beth grumbled.

"Hey, I don't know if you know this, Beth, but you're a precious commodity." Mason led the way, her fire poker hanging from a rope around her shoulder.

"How's that?"

"Well, you're a metal head choir girl, for one. _That's_ hard to come by. And most people wouldn't choose to spend their time with an iron-swinging freak like me."

Beth smiled. "What makes you think you're a freak?"

"What, you think I'm not?"

"No, I'm askin' why _you_ think you are."

Mason shoved her lightly. "I've got a third eye growing out of my left foot. Also I'm a Gemini."

"Oh, yeah?"

"No, I'm sorry, that was a lie. I'm actually an Aquarius."

"You're a goof, that's what- oh. Mason?"

Mason stopped and followed Beth's gaze to a pair of walkers rambling in their direction. Seeing the tension in Beth's face, Mason made her voice as airy as possible.

"Aw, look, they're out for a walk, too!"

And then she cut through both walkers' heads with one swing.

She turned to give Beth a reassuring grin, but Beth was frowning at the fallen corpses like they had personally offended her.

"…You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Let's keep goin'."

Absently she reached out and took Mason's hand like it was no big deal. Like it didn't make a difference to Mason's heart, when it most certainly did.

 _Get a fucking grip,_ she told herself. _You don't have any right to get so worked up when you're not even staying._

"Can I ask you somethin'?"

Mason stiffened. The response was so automatic it barely registered, but Beth noticed immediately.

"I'm sorry, I know you're… I mean, this isn't a _personal_ question or anythin'," she said.

Mason took a deep breath.

 _Get. A fucking. Grip._

"It's fine, Beth, you can ask me anything you want."

"Well, I was just wonderin'…why the fire iron?"

Her lips twisted into a wry smile. _Not personal, my ass,_ she thought. She knew it wasn't really Beth's fault. Weapons were weapons and nothing more, or at least they were supposed to be.

"It belonged to a…friend."

As Mason expected, Beth didn't miss the hesitation. "A friend?"

"She was my best friend."

Not entirely a lie.

Beth nodded thoughtfully. "Gina?"

Mason shuddered. The pain felt like something punching a hole in her stomach.

"Y-es."

Beth glanced at her and then away. "You say her name in your sleep a lot."

Mason nodded. Her free hand clenched tight. "Yeah, I'm sure I do."

"Would it hurt if you told me about her?"

For a moment, Mason was quiet. Would it? She'd been silent for so long, kept everything to herself, never even interacted with anyone for months…

"Yes," she said finally. "But it would probably be good for me, too."

"Well then what was your favorite thing about her?"

To her own surprise Mason smiled, the sunny kind she remembered from before all the bad shit.

"Everything," she said. "Her eyes, her smile… She had this funny thing about shoes. She never wanted to wear them, not even after the outbreak. So she'd be fighting off walkers in that damn yellow dress of hers, completely barefoot."

"Dress?"

"Yeah. She was a fearless little contradiction. Dainty dress, bloody fire iron… She was amazing."

Beth looked at her curiously. "You sound like you really loved her."

It was in Beth's voice, something Mason recognized from her time in another life. Back before she'd come out as bisexual, some of her friends had guessed how she felt about girls. That same sound- that cautious knowing- was there in Beth's voice.

Mason couldn't justify her sudden inhibition. In her old life, everyone knew she was down for either gender. She wasn't ashamed of that. She wasn't ashamed of Gina. So why the fuck were her cheeks flaming with color?

"Well, um…I guess if I'm being honest…she wasn't just my friend. She was my girlfriend."

There. It was out.

Something flashed in Beth's eyes but it was gone too quickly for Mason to identify.

"Yeah, I…I kinda figured."

"Does that bother you?"

"No," Beth said. Her voice was too light and she wouldn't look Mason in the eye, but at least she didn't pull her hand away.

Mason nudged her. "So this doesn't make me more of a freak?"

She meant it jokingly but Beth didn't laugh. Mason didn't blame her.

"You're not a freak for who you love, Mason," she said quietly. It sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

They continued on in silence for a while, still holding hands. Even though she was anxious to know what Beth was really thinking, Mason felt strangely buoyant. It was more of a relief than she thought it would be to get something off her chest.

After a while, Beth asked, "Why'd you bring your iPod?"

"Habit. It makes me anxious to be without it. Plus it's just smart…you know, in case you ever get in a fight and need some really badass background music."

Beth smiled. "Play me something."

"Why, are we gonna fight?"

"If you think you could take me."

Mason laughed. "I'd rather not. You look like one of those scrappy types."

She took her iPod from her pocket, put it on shuffle and turned up the volume so Beth could hear. She scanned through until she came across a song that softened her expression.

They stood and listened while it played, and after a while Beth murmured, "What's it called?"

"Screen," Mason replied. "We used to listen to this song on repeat back before the outbreak."

"I like it," Beth said. "It's like a beautiful contradiction."

Then she smiled and Mason smiled back and the song took on a joyful undertone. Beth was so beautiful, so sweet, and she made Mason feel less alone. They all did.

 _How can you leave this?_ she thought. Pain twisted her stomach and the moment soured.

"Maybe we should start heading back," she said. The sun had risen considerably, and now that she had noticed how much time had passed she realized she was starving.

"Can we come back tomorrow?"

"Oh, er…sure. Yeah, of course."

 _You're a pussy._

Mason let her iPod play as they walked back. The sound attracted another walker, which she dispatched easily and, like before, Beth's expression pinched with disgruntlement.

Mason raised an eyebrow. "You gonna tell me what's wrong with you?"

Beth stared at the ground. "It's nothin'."

"Even if it's nothing- which it clearly is not- I still want to know. Anything that bothers you bothers me."

"It's just…"

Beth trailed off, fingers lingering at the knife at her belt. Mason waited patiently but the silence stretched on and eventually Beth sighed.

"Nothin'," she said. "It's nothin'."

"Beth…"

"C'mon. The others'll start to worry if we're gone too long."

~m~

Mason followed Beth and Lori into Hershel's cell, carrying a pair of crutches that she and Daryl had found on one of their runs.

She handed them to Hershel and winked. "Here you go, old man."

"Who's old?" he replied, leaning forward on the edge of his bunk.

Lori smiled tightly. "Just take your time."

Hershel ignored her and positioned the crutches under his arms. Beth's forehead creased. She touched his shoulder gently.

"Daddy, don't push yourself," she said.

"What else am I going to do?" he said and stood up.

Mason and Beth caught him as he wobbled but he recovered his balance quickly. He moved forward a few paces toward Carl, who stood watching from the doorway.

"You know, I feel pretty steady," Hershel said. Mason smiled but kept her hands ready in case he teetered again. Slowly he edged his way out of the cell.

Lori smiled but the tightness never left her lips. Mason could tell she wasn't feeling one hundred percent and she wondered if Carol had had time to prepare any skullcap.

"Well, that's a start," Lori said. "Time to rest?"

Hershel stared at her. "Rest?" He smiled and his eyes touched on Beth before he turned for the cell block door. "Let's go for a little stroll."

Lori gaped at him. "A stroll…? But, Hershel-"

"I've been lying in that cot for a whole week. It's about time I stretch my leg."

His smile widened at the little joke. Beth and Lori still looked uneasy.

"Don't worry," Hershel added. "Mason here wouldn't let anything happen to an old coot like me."

She grinned. "Who else could I count on to teach me cribbage?"

"I'll teach you never to disrespect a man with a weapon," he replied, and whacked her lightly on the knee with his crutch without losing his balance.

Lori opened the door to the prison yard. Beth and Carl took up positions behind Hershel while Mason led the way, guiding him slowly down the cement stairs. Once they reached the bottom she stepped aside and let him take the lead. They all followed at his pace.

Hershel looked around in surprise. "You cleared all those bodies?"

"Dad and T-Dog did," Carl said.

"This is startin' to look like a place we could really live."

Mason ignored the pang in her chest.

"Watch your step," Lori said. "Last thing we need is you falling." She kept one hand on the small of her back as if to prop herself up. Mason knew it was just her imagination, but Lori's stomach looked bigger, impossibly huge, especially compared to her skinny limbs.

"Alright, Hershel!"

They all looked up to where Glenn stood by the hole in the fence, carrying firewood in with Rick and Daryl. Hershel's eyes twinkled.

"So you ready to race, Hershel?" Carl said.

"Give me another day," Hershel replied. "I'll take you on."

Carl grinned. Mason flipped the sheriff hat up over his eyes and he punched her on the shoulder. From across the yard, Maggie, Carol and T-Dog stopped to watch, all of them wearing identical smiles. It was the happiest Mason had seen the group and she couldn't help letting herself feel it, too.

Then Carl turned around and his eyes widened.

"Walkers! Look out!"

Mason whipped around, swinging her fire poker off of her shoulder while Carl and Lori aimed their guns. The walkers were coming at them from both sides, so many so suddenly that Mason's head spun. She leapt forward and took a few of them out but more just kept flooding in.

"Mason!" Beth grabbed her arm and dragged her back. Her eyes were wide with terror.

Maggie, T-Dog and Carol raced over to help, fighting their way closer to Lori and Carl. Maggie was the first to reach them.

Beth tugged on her arm. "Mason, c'mon! You have to help my dad!"

Mason backed up quickly, angling herself so that she was always between Beth and the walkers. They headed for the closest door, one they hardly ever used but which was surrounded by a cage. Hershel moved as fast as he could but the stairs leading up to the door slowed him down.

"Beth, help him up," Mason said. "I'll hold them off."

She didn't look to see if Beth listened to her. A cluster of walkers were closing in. She swung the fire iron as they limped forward, but one of them caught the sleeve of her shirt and pulled her toward it. Mason wrenched backward and nearly lost her footing. Her back collided painfully with one of the metal steps, knocking the breath from her lungs.

" _No! Mason!_ "

The walkers were on her in an instant. She tried to swing the iron but the stairs encumbered her movements. Desperately she kicked out, knocking one of them away, but another took its place. Its body fell on hers, weighing her down. The putrid scent of death choked her…

And then suddenly the weight was lifted, and there was a splash of viscous blood and a deafening gunshot.

"Mason!"

A strong hand pulled her up by her arm. She blinked, trying to see Daryl's face through the walker blood dripping into her eyes. He brushed it away for her.

"You alright?" he said.

She nodded. "What's happening?"

"I don't know, we just-"

"What the hell happened?"

That was Rick, pacing back and forth like an enraged lion. She flinched back from the look on his face, the terror bordering on violence. Suddenly she realized she couldn't see Lori anywhere, or Carl or Maggie or any of the others.

 _You left them._

"I don't know, they just came outta nowhere," Beth said.

 _You coward._

"T said something about the gate bein' open," Hershel said.

"Where's Lori, Carl, everyone else?" Rick demanded.

Mason swayed unsteadily but Daryl kept her standing.

"Maggie led Lori and Carl into C block," Hershel said.

"But T was bit," Beth said.

The ground dropped out beneath her. T was bit? Where? What chance did he have of survival? Was it a limb, like Hershel, something that could salvage his life? Was it her fault?

"Anyone else?" Rick asked.

"I-I'm not sure."

"Stay put."

Glenn called out for Rick but Mason was no longer paying attention. All she could see was T's face this morning, smiling and untroubled. Her stomach rolled sickly.

"Hey. _Hey._ "

Her eyes refocused as Daryl took her head in his hands. His gaze was sharp, cutting through her misery.

"You with me?"

She blinked. For a moment she couldn't make sense of what he was asking. Was she with him? Did she have a choice?

"Y-yes," she finally said.

He nodded and pointed over her shoulder. "You stay with them."

That woke her up.

"No, we need to find Lori, and Carl. I'll come with you-"

" _No._ Stay with Beth. Stay with Hershel."

"But-"

"No arguments."

Then he pushed her roughly up the stairs and slammed the cage door closed.

Immediately Beth pulled her into her arms, holding her so tight she could barely breathe. She buried her face in Mason's shoulder, not seeming to care that she was covered in gore.

"I thought you were dead," Beth sobbed.

Mason shook her head numbly. "No. Not as long as you want me around."

~m~

"Mason, stop. You'll wear a hole in the platform."

Mason didn't look up at Hershel, didn't stop her pacing. She thought she might combust if she did. She kept her eyes trained on the cell block door, waiting for it to open, waiting to see someone's face.

"Mason?"

She glanced quickly at Beth and then away. She couldn't stand the fear on her face, knowing there was nothing she could do about it, knowing they were trapped in this cage while the others were off risking their lives God knew where.

Suddenly the door slid open and the faces she was waiting for appeared. Rick, Glenn, Daryl, and the two inmates Oscar and Axel. Clumsy with haste, she opened the cage door and rushed down to meet them.

"Did you find any of the others?" she asked.

"T-Dog," Glenn answered. The defeat in his voice told her the rest of what he wouldn't say.

Her chin trembled. "And Carol?"

"She didn't make it," Daryl growled.

Mason bit the inside of her cheek, hard enough that she tasted blood.

"That doesn't mean the others didn't," Rick said. "Glenn, Oscar, head back to the-"

A sound cut him off. Everyone fell deathly silent.

It was a cry.

The wail of a baby.

Slowly, Rick turned toward the sound. Mason leaned around him with her heart in her throat.

Carl and Maggie were stepping down from the catwalk, moving slow, cautious. There was a little bloody bundle in Maggie's arms and Lori was nowhere to be seen.

Lori was nowhere to be seen.

"No," Mason whispered.

Rick moved forward, shaking his head.

"Where is she?"

His voice was barely audible, terrifyingly fragile, like standing on a platform of glass. She couldn't stand the sound of it. Her fingers had gone numb around the fire poker.

"Where…?"

Rick wouldn't stop pacing. He cut back and forth in front of Maggie, who was trying to speak. But no matter how her lips moved she couldn't put sounds to her words.

Before anyone could stop him, Rick strode past her.

Maggie grabbed his arm, sobbing. "No, Rick, don't!"

Rick stopped, but he didn't look at her. His eyes were on his son, whose expression was as bare as the dead of winter.

" _No,_ " Rick moaned. " _No_."

His sobs cut Mason to the bone. She leaned unsteadily against Daryl while the tears blinded her.

They blurred everything, but not enough to block out the sight of Rick falling to the ground, or the way his body shook with sobs so loud they drowned out the sound of the baby covered in his dead wife's blood.


	6. Home

Note: First and foremost, there is a trigger warning for this chapter. It's a bit dark and there are some allusions to rape. I know anyone reading this has probably watched every gruesome episode of the show, but I didn't want to let anyone read on without being forewarned. The song I've chosen for this chapter I think fits this brooding chapter perfectly- "Home" by Daughter.

6\. Home

The dew was cold on Mason's bare feet. The difference between it and the humid morning air made her shiver.

Daryl was exactly where she thought he would be, his fingers resting lightly in the turned soil at his feet. He didn't turn to look at her as she approached.

She sat next to him for a while in silence, studying the white flower perched delicately at the intersection of the cross. In the peace of the morning it was easy to pretend that they were the only two people left in the world, separated from it by the numbness. She dragged her fingers through the soil, wondering what it felt like to be buried…

"You know what you said the other day," Daryl murmured, "about letting fate decide?"

Mason nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Fuck it. Fuck fate. You shouldn't believe in it."

Mason dug her nails into the dirt. The ground felt solid enough, but the rest of the world felt disconnected.

"I don't know if I believe in anything."

"Carol did," Daryl growled. "She thought some higher power was just gonna step in and make everything better, and look where it got her. You can't trust nothin' now."

She thought about reminding him that they hadn't found Carol's body, that they had no more evidence that she was alive or dead other than her bloodied head scarf (which, if Mason was being honest, was not particularly encouraging).

But she didn't. She couldn't. Lies were for children of a former world.

"I know what you were doing before, runnin' yourself ragged," Daryl continued. "Tryin' to distance yourself from this."

He waved a hand toward the prison, but his eyes stayed locked on Carol's empty grave.

Mason stared at the cross for a long time, at the shock of white from the flower, trying to feel something. But there was only the numbness. After a moment, she stood.

"I didn't get to bury my friend, either," she said.

Daryl looked up.

"There wasn't anything left." She held out her hand before he could respond. "C'mon. The others'll be awake soon. There's still plenty to do."

He looked at her for a minute and then at her hand, until finally he reached out with his own and took it. His fingers felt warm and gritty in hers. It was more grounding than the earth under her feet.

Everyone else was awake when they got back to the cell block. She scanned the room for any sign of Rick, and was unsurprised when she saw nothing. Yesterday, after Lori, he'd disappeared into the tombs and when Glenn went down to find him he said he was covered in walker blood, completely out of his mind.

She did see Beth, though, standing near the perch stairs with a bundle in her arms. Mason sighed. Of course she liked babies.

Glenn nodded at her and Daryl. "We were about to eat breakfast," he said. "If we clean out the tombs today we'll need our strength."

"Who all is going?" Daryl asked.

"I am," Oscar said. "I'm gonna take a look at the generator room, see if I can get it working to our advantage. We don't want another day like…like yesterday."

Mason stared at the floor. Everyone's voice was subdued, like the aftermath of a storm, but the quiet spaces in between were bundling up against her, louder than anything. She thought maybe they were echoes from yesterday. She thought maybe she would scream if they didn't go away.

"Maggie and I are going to make a run, see if we can find any more formula," Glenn said.

"Ammo, too," Maggie said. "Everyone's runnin' low."

Daryl nodded, chewing his bottom lip. "Okay," he said. "I'll go with Oscar. Clear whatever else needs clearin'."

"Do you want me to come, too?" Mason murmured.

Before Daryl could reply, Carl spoke up. "I'll go."

Nobody said anything. Nobody told him he was too young, or that it was too dangerous. Mason tried not to think of why, but the gun on his belt was a heavy reminder.

They all sat in silence while they ate their breakfast- oats soaked in warm water. Mason wondered idly if Maggie and Glenn would find any sugar on their run, but remembered quickly that it didn't matter.

 _You can find your own sugar when you leave._

Beth busied herself with feeding the baby the formula Daryl and Maggie had found yesterday. Mason felt awkward sitting so close to them. Babies made her uncomfortable.

When Rick spoke, everyone jumped.

"Everybody okay?"

He was standing behind the commons room door, peering in through the bars. Mason noticed that he did not look as disheveled as he had last time she'd seen him, and must have cleaned himself up. She wished she could take it as a good sign, but she knew how these things worked.

Maggie was the first to recover. "Yeah. We are," she said.

He nodded and opened the door. Every step he took into the commons room was slow and calculated. He didn't look at the baby.

"What about you?" Hershel asked.

"Cleared out the boiler block," Rick said. Nobody pointed out that it wasn't really an answer.

"How many were there?" Daryl asked.

Rick shook his head. "I don't know. A dozen, two dozen… I have to get back. I just wanted to check on Carl."

He laid his hand on Carl's shoulder but Carl wouldn't look at him. He stared down into his bowl of flavorless muck like it was telling him grim secrets.

Then Rick turned and headed back for the door, his movements quick now, jerky. Like he couldn't get out fast enough.

Glenn started after him. "Rick, we can handle taking out the bodies. You don't have to."

"No, I do."

And then he was gone.

In his absence, they all sat looking at each other. Mason turned away first. The emptiness in each of their faces felt like looking in a mirror.

~m~

The kid started crying around noon and wasn't showing any signs of shutting up. Mason sat in her cell, fists clenched on her knees, waiting for her iPod to charge. She needed an escape, a more satisfying separation than leaving the room or going outside. She wished she'd just gone with Daryl, or went on that run with Glenn and Maggie. Sitting there listening to the kid's screams…she was going to lose her damn mind.

Eventually she unplugged her iPod even though it was only half charged. That would be enough. She just needed out. She got up and strode for the door.

"Where are you goin'?"

She stopped, clenching her teeth. "Out."

The crying drew closer. "Outside the fence?"

"Of course not. Just outside."

"Well, I'll come with you-"

"No." Beth fell silent. Mason could picture perfectly the hurt on her face. "Her crying will draw every walker in the state."

"I can-"

"I just need to be alone."

She left before Beth could say another word.

The day was quiet aside from a few birds, but even away from the baby her mind was still full of the screaming. She slipped on her headphones, turned up the volume and let the music drown every unwelcome thought.

She lost track of time, walking back and forth along the fence, stabbing the occasional walker through the chain link. It was easier with the music washing through her to forget everything, or at least successfully block it out. All her tension drained away. It was a different time, a different place. She wasn't even herself anymore.

 _I want to run,_ she thought, and for the first time in a long time she really felt like she could. She was disconnected, free, floating…

Something moved in the corner of her eye. She whipped around, raising her fire poker.

"Easy there," Hershel said, raising one hand like he could stop her.

Instantly she relaxed, pausing her music. "Sorry, old man. I thought maybe you were a straggler from…yesterday."

"I can't tell you how flattered I feel that you would confuse the two of us."

"It's that cannibal glint in your eye."

Hershel smiled a little, but she could tell his mind was elsewhere. Her eyes flashed to the prison and back.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Is Beth alright?"

He peered at her strangely, long enough that she felt a blush color her cheeks.

"I-I just meant, is the baby okay…as well as her…"

"The baby is fine, and so is Beth," Hershel said. "That's not what I came out here to talk to you about. It's Rick."

Mason felt suddenly colder. "Is he okay?" she whispered, barely audible. "Did he get hurt down there?"

"No, not as far as I can tell. But his time down there isn't doing him any good, either."

"He needs to grieve."

"Yes, he does."

Hershel was quiet for a moment, and Mason wondered if it was out of agreement until he continued.

"I went down there to check on him. He told me someone had called him, told him they were all living in a safe place. He wants to join them."

She frowned. "Called him? Like, on a phone?"

His eyes were dark with worry. "That's what he said. I told him I'd wait with him to see if the phone rang again-"

"But…it won't…"

"I know. He needs to work through this in his own way, but it worries me to leave him down there by himself."

In the back of her mind, the screaming was starting up again. She flinched away from it, aching to slip back into her music, but she knew she couldn't. Her temporary peace was gone.

"I'll go talk to him," she said. "Probably it won't help, but it gives me an excuse to check on him."

"You don't have to do that."

"Then why'd you come looking for me?"

"Beth said you were out here. She said you seemed upset."

Mason looked awkwardly at the ground. "I just needed some fresh air," she said.

"Mason-"

"I'm heading inside now. You coming?"

When she glanced at his expression she could tell he wanted to argue, but in the end he just nodded and said, "Yes. Let's get back."

They walked in silence on the way back, but he stopped her as soon as they made it to the commons room.

"Be careful down there," he said.

"I'll be fine." She touched the fire poker slung over her shoulder.

"I'm not just talking about the walkers."

Their eyes met and she saw in his all the fear she was trying to escape.

"Rick asked me not to mention anything about the phone calls to the group. Best not to let on that you know."

"I'll be fine," she repeated.

He touched her arm. "I know," he said. "Be careful all the same."

~m~

When she found Rick he was slumped against a desk in the corner of the boiler room. His eyes were closed, his face covered in sweat. There was an old fashioned turn dial on the desk near his head. The sight made her cold all over.

"Rick?"

Rick's eyes popped open. One hand reached automatically for his gun, the other for the phone.

Mason raised her arms in surrender. "It's okay, it's me."

He blinked. "Mason?"

"The very same."

"What are you doing here? Why aren't you with Beth?"

Her teeth ground together. "Beth's fine. She's up with Hershel, taking care of…" She trailed off. He didn't seem to notice her unease.

"Why are you here?"

"Just checking up. Wanted to see if you needed help clearing this place but it looks like you've got it all sorted out."

He nodded. "I do."

"So why are you still down here?"

Rick twitched and his eyes darkened. "I have stuff I need to do," he said. "Things…"

"But you don't have to do them down here, do you?"

"I do."

He was sounding more belligerent, less himself. Mason knew she should back off, but something urged her on.

"Rick, it's too dangerous to be on your own. You have to think about the people who need you."

"I _am_ thinking about them," he growled.

"You're not. If you were you'd be up there with your kids, making sure-"

He leapt up before she could finish and slammed her against the wall. She grunted as the pain knocked the breath from her lungs. Her muscles tensed to react but she stayed still, gauging him. His gaze was nebulous, but his grip on her shoulders was menacing. She had no doubt that he could kill her if he wanted to.

"You should leave," Rick said. Low and even. No doubt in his ability to _force_ her to leave, if that's what it took.

Slow and clear, she said, "No."

With a shout, Rick swung her toward the exit but Mason was expecting it. She turned with the movement, using his force to propel her into the other wall. She racked her shoulder against it, hard enough that the pain made her light-headed, and pushed off again. Rick stumbled back as she shoved him away.

She shuffled backward, fully expecting him to renew his attack, but instead he leaned his head on the desk and wouldn't move.

Mason stood there for a long moment, waiting for the adrenaline to fade. Then she breathed a shaky sigh and said, "Gina and I, we never stopped moving. She was my girlfriend before all of this and I had this stupid hope that someday I would find us a place where we could grow old together. But things just…never seemed to work out. Whenever we found a place that was sort of safe, walkers always drove us away. We thought that was all there was to fear.

"Eventually we hotwired this car…it was Gina's dream car, actually, a red Dodge Viper, it even had a racing stripe. We lived out of it for a while. It couldn't beat a warm bed but it was home, and we were happier."

She swallowed to keep her throat from squeezing closed. Her lips were dry. Her nails dug into her palms.

"One day we ran into these guys."

Rick glanced slowly in her direction, noting the change in her tone.

"They were these mangy, biker-looking bastards. They stopped us in this rinky-dink town not far from here while we were scavenging for food. I don't even know how we managed to get out of that. Fucking dumb luck. We were outnumbered four to one but we still got away, we even managed to take one of them out before we escaped. Gina was a sight to see, swinging that fire poker like a goddamn sword. In those days it was _her_ weapon, not mine. She had a little pyro blood in her. She loved fires, and she was one.

"A few days later we were driving through the woods and those men found us. It was raining and the sun was going down, so we didn't see them until it was too late. They ran us off the road and we crashed into a ravine. Neither of us was hurt, but we had to run so it wasn't long before I was limping badly. My knee…" She shook her head, leaning down to touch it reflexively.

"I injured it my senior year in track. I used to be faster than anything but now I can't go a mile without the damn thing acting up. So we stopped when we came across this old Caddy abandoned in the woods and hid out in the front seat. They might not have ever found us if we hadn't heard the screams."

There were tears in her eyes but she wouldn't let them fall. She couldn't if she ever wanted to get this story out.

"It was a girl and a guy, not much older than us. They were wandering close by; it didn't take us long to find them. They were terrified, soaked to the bone, babbling about how their friend got his foot caught in a steel trap. Ordinarily I might've been wary…looking back now their shit story was so flimsy I should've seen right through it but…"

She was trembling now. Her knees were shaking so badly she wondered how they were able to hold her up at all.

"I left Gina in the Caddy and followed the strangers deeper into the woods. It didn't take me long to figure out that there was no other friend a few seconds and that was when Gina started screaming.

"I turned to run back to her, but the guy grabbed me and slammed me against a tree. I hit my head pretty hard. For a minute I couldn't move, couldn't see. But I could still hear. Gina kept screaming, calling my name, calling for help. I must have only been out for a few seconds but it felt like I couldn't recover fast enough.

"When I did, the strangers were trying to drag me off. I kicked them away and managed to escape, but I didn't make it far before they caught up to me. The walkers came then, attracted by the sound and everything kind of blurred together at that point. I don't remember exactly how I broke free, I just remember that I was covered in so much blood it was all I could smell."

She breathed deeply, trying not to panic at the coppery scent in the back of her nostrils. It was just memory. It wasn't real.

"She was still…alive…when I got there. Those bastards had her pressed against the car…she was naked and they…and they were…"

She couldn't say it. She couldn't. Bile rose in her throat at the thought. It took everything in her to keep going.

"I attacked the men. I pushed through the first two- I think I remember blinding one of them, jamming my thumb through his eye- but then two others caught me and held me down. The man…the man who had Gina turned her to face me. Just yanked her by her hair like…like he was directing a fucking horse. I saw red then. I tasted my own blood in my mouth, my tongue bitten right through…I struggled against the men who held me, flipping over onto my back and pulling one of them down to my chest. I was trying to bite his throat but he moved and my teeth ended up in his shoulder.

"He screamed and punched me in the stomach, so hard I couldn't breathe. The other one rolled me over again while I was still winded. He whispered something. I think he was telling me that I was next, but I could barely hear through the blood rushing in my ears.

"At first I was glad when the walkers came. It was a whole herd of them; they flooded in out of nowhere and fell on us like wolves. The men holding me tried to run but somehow I managed to hold them on top of me while the walkers ate them alive. I saw the other guy haul Gina deeper into the woods and everything in me was screaming to go after them but the walkers were everywhere and when I was finally able to scramble to my feet I had to fight my way through and I just couldn't move fast enough…"

She stopped, breathing fast. It took her a moment to compose herself enough to continue. Her vision blurred but she could feel Rick's gaze burning into her. So much for holding off the tears.

"I didn't have to run far to find…what was left of them. It wasn't much. Just blood…one big puddle of it that the walkers were drinking from. I tore them apart and I stayed there for the rest of the night.

"I don't know how long I laid on the ground while the rain buried me into the ground but it felt like years. Walkers came and went. I expected them to attack but they just…went past. Like I was dead. Because I _was_ dead. I died that day. Panic eventually drove me to my feet. I needed to be sure that Gina's possessions were safe. It was stupid, but…there was nothing else left of her.

"Ever since I just kept moving, caught between life and death. Every once in a while I would play my music to attract the walkers, like that day you found me, but I never had the nerve to let them finish me off. I told myself it was because I was dead already, but I was worse than dead. I was…I was a walker, too."

Mason paused then to catch her breath and wipe the tears from her cheeks. She felt lighter, but not in any way that made her feel okay. It was more like she'd been hollowed out.

Rick stared at her but he didn't speak. His eyes looked a bit clearer, a bit more himself.

She sighed. "I didn't know how to say any of that before today. I know…that it doesn't fix anything and I know that it feels like you're an island in your own pain." She met his gaze evenly, though her hands still shook.

"You're not. We're all still here, and we all still will be when you're ready. It's okay to go a little crazy. Just don't lose yourself there."

She knew she could ramble on forever. Now that she'd exhumed the memory she was plagued by a strange urge to keep talking, like the wound left over required constant draining.

But she didn't. She had done enough, and maybe it would help, and maybe it was all just bullshit, but she had done her part all the same.

She turned to leave.

"You didn't lose yourself," Rick rasped.

She stopped. Turned and stared at him for a long time.

"No," she said. "I didn't."

~m~

The kid was crying again and Mason was beginning to wonder if there would ever be peace and quiet in this prison again. At least her iPod was fully charged. She turned up the volume and leaned back in her cot.

A shadow flickered in the doorway. She opened her eyes and was unsurprised to see Beth standing there, her expression wary.

Stifling a sigh, she removed her headphones. "Hey," she said.

"Hey."

"Where's Little Asskicker?"

"She's with Daddy. He's hoping Glenn and Maggie bring back more formula. She eats like a horse."

Mason nodded wordlessly. She wished Beth would leave. She just wanted to be alone.

Instead, she sat on the end of Mason's cot and said, "What's wrong? You've been actin' distant all day."

"Have I?"

Beth frowned. "Are you mad at me? Did I do somethin'?"

Mason sighed. "No, of course you didn't. It's just been two shit days back to back, that's all."

"Did you talk to Rick?"

"Yes."

"Is he…I mean, do you think he'll be alright?"

She thought about lying, but in the end she said, "I don't know. It isn't something…you ever really recover from. I think you just find a way through it, if that's the kind of person you are."

Beth nodded, rubbing absently at her wrist. "And what kind of person do you think I am?"

The question surprised Mason, so she didn't have time to really process it before the cell block door creaked open.

Mason sat up and saw her own anticipation reflected in Beth's eyes. Daryl's group had already returned from the tombs. She supposed it could have been Glenn and Maggie, home early from their expedition, but from the stark silence in the cell block she thought not. She leapt from her cot and followed Beth out of the cell.

The sun was shining in through the windows, illuminating Rick and the baby in his arms.

Mason stopped where she was. Beth continued on to join Carl and Hershel, who flanked Rick on either side. Oscar and Axel stood a little off to the side, although she couldn't see Daryl anywhere.

There were tears in Rick's eyes but they never fell. The smile he gave his daughter cut a little piece out of her heart. No, she was not one for babies, but she didn't have a name for the way the kid's little hands clutching Rick's shirt put a lump in her throat.

Hershel smiled. "Let's take her for a walk."

Everyone followed slowly as Rick headed outside. The sun felt heavenly on Mason's face.

Rick turned to Carl. "She looks like you."

Carl grinned. Then Rick glanced at Mason.

The smile was still on his face, but when she looked into his eyes she was back in that boiler room, heavy with tears and the stench of decay. In his eyes there were shadows that she could not reach, and others that she understood too well.

She saw it when it his eyes flickered to the fence, but she didn't look away until his expression faltered.

At first she couldn't tell what had caught his attention. All she saw were walkers lined up against the chain link. It was the flash of red that alerted her to something out of the ordinary. She squinted, trying to make out what it was. Then she glanced back at Rick.

He nodded slightly and handed the baby to Carl. "Stay here." He started down the path to the gate with Mason at his side.

They stopped a few feet from the inner fence, looking out across the gravel path at the walkers, and one lone figure looking very out of place.

Because it wasn't a walker. It was a woman, a young black woman with dreadlocks covered in walker guts. In her hand she held a red basket, full of tins of baby formula. Her wide eyes put the screaming back in Mason's head.

So far the walkers hadn't noticed her, like she wasn't any different from them.

Like she was dead, too.

Mason's stomach clenched. She jumped when Rick touched her arm.

"You distract the walkers," he said. "I'll bring her in."

~m

 _"Cause I don't stand a chance in these four walls,_

 _and he don't recognize me anymore._

 _Burned out flames should never re-ignite,_

 _but I thought you might_

 _take me, take me, home."_

~m

Note: One last thing before I go that I almost forgot. I was recently asked whether or not I had a schedule for this story, and I can't say yes but I can't so no, either. I have been working on outlining this story as much as possible, and I have a lot of it planned out, but as far as when the chapters will be posted I'm not sure. I will try not to let the time in between go on for too long (honestly as much as I might love working on a story, if I let myself drift away from it for longer than I should it's a lot harder coming back to it). Long story short, I have the chapters planned out but not yet written. Anyway, I hope you all are enjoying the story so far and I hope you stick around for more!


	7. Breezeblocks

Note: Hello guys! Phew, let me just say that I am SO sorry that I've been away for a while, I hope you guys haven't given up on me! But I'm back, and this chapter's a long one to make up for time lost. The song that this chapter is inspired by is "Breezeblocks" by alt-J, and I'm sure a lot of you have heard it but if not give a listen, it's a good'n. Anyway, I will try to write more consistently so long as "real life" cooperates haha. Let me know what you think!

7\. Breezeblocks

" _She may contain the urge to run away_

 _but hold her down with soggy clothes and breezeblocks…_ "

~m~

The woman came to as Mason and Rick carried her into C block.

"Carl, get a blanket," Rick said. "Beth, water and towels."

The two rushed off immediately. Mason and Rick lowered the woman onto the floor of the commons area. Her eyes reeled, struggling to focus.

Beth was the first one back. She handed Rick a bottle of water, then knelt to press a towel to the gunshot wound in the woman's leg.

The woman's eyelids fluttered as Rick poured the water on her chest. Mason held her down when she began to struggle.

"It's alright," Rick said. "We're not going to hurt you."

But the woman continued to struggle. She ripped her arm away from Mason and reached for the samurai sword they'd found her with.

Rick kicked the sword away. Mason reaffirmed her grip.

"We're not going to hurt you," Rick repeated, "unless you try something stupid first. Alright?"

"Rick."

Everyone turned to see Daryl standing in the doorway, peering curiously at the new arrival.

"Who the hell's this?"

Rick looked back at the woman. "You wanna tell us your name?"

The woman stared at him with an unnerving, unblinking gaze. Now that her panic had died off, the hint of a smile was playing at the corners of her mouth. It wasn't friendly.

His eyes narrowed. "You wanna tell us your name?" he repeated.

When the woman remained silent, Daryl said, "Ya'll come on in here."

"Everything alright?" Rick asked.

"You're gonna wanna see this."

Daryl's eyes met Mason's from across the room. She couldn't quite tell what she saw in them but it lightened the weight on her chest a little.

The others headed for the cell block, but Rick and Mason lingered. He handed her the sword.

"We're gonna hold onto this," he said to the woman. "These doors are locked, you'll be safe here. And we can treat that." He pointed to her leg.

The woman's lips pressed into a hard line. "I didn't ask for your help," she said.

"Doesn't matter. We can't let you leave."

Without another word, Rick and Mason followed the others into the cell block and locked the door behind them, leaving the woman alone.

Everyone was gathered around Carol's old cell. They all looked up as the two of them approached, their eyes wide with excitement. Mason glanced at Daryl. His lips pulled into that subtle smile of his and her heart skipped.

Something _good_ had happened.

She was right behind Rick when he reached the cell, so she couldn't see his expression, but when she peered around him she saw Carol's.

 _Carol's_.

Carol was alive.

The breath rushed out of her lungs. The sword tumbled from her hands. Carol smiled at them from the bottom bunk. Though her face was grimy and drawn from exhaustion, her eyes shone with joy.

She stood and met Rick in the doorway. He hugged her fiercely, murmuring words that Mason couldn't quite catch. Then she turned to hug Mason, although she more or less just sagged wearily while Mason supported her weight.

"How…" Mason breathed.

"She fought her way into a cell," Daryl said. "When I found her she was passed out, dehydrated."

She stared at him in amazement until Carol broke away, eyes fixed on something past Mason's shoulder. Everyone turned, and there was Beth with the kid in her arms.

Mason's smile faded.

As Carol made her acquaintance with Little Asskicker, Mason edged away. She could feel her excitement waning, the numbing shadows moving in again, eager to gain the slightest foothold. Even Carol's miraculous return was not enough to keep them at bay. She longed for the sanctuary of her music, but as she turned to head back to her cell she caught sight of the woman leaning against the cell block door, watching them with that feral cat stare.

Mason's eyes narrowed. Her hand drifted unconsciously to her fire iron but she didn't draw it.

"So what's with the samurai?"

Daryl had appeared at her side.

"Dunno. We found her out at the fence with a hole in her leg and a basket full of formula. The walkers didn't…didn't seem to notice she wasn't one of them until one of them came close enough to smell the blood."

"Brave or stupid, you think?"

"Maybe neither."

Daryl looked at her. She ducked her head so he wouldn't see the ruin in her eyes. After a moment she cleared her throat.

"We need to find out why's she here," she said. "And how she just happens to have exactly the supplies we've been looking for."

Daryl nodded. Mason continued to look at the floor, but she knew he was seeing on her face exactly what she wished he wouldn't.

"Alright," he finally said. "C'mon."

They went back for Rick, who stood a few feet away while Carol and Beth exclaimed over the kid. His eyes were suspiciously red but Mason saw no tears. He smiled at her but she found she couldn't return one. Apparently she'd used up all her smiles for the day.

"We need to know why that woman came here," she said.

He nodded. "Yes, we do. I'll get Hershel."

Once the four of them had gathered, they headed back to the commons room where the woman waited. She backed off, looking at them liked a cornered animal preparing its last stand. When her eyes passed over her, Mason narrowed hers.

Rick approached her slowly but firmly. "We'll tend to that wound for you, give you a little food and water and then send you on your way," he said. "But first you have to tell us how you found us, and why you were carrying formula."

The woman appraised him for a long time before she finally spoke. "Supplies were dropped by a young Asian guy," she said, "and a pretty girl."

Mason tensed. She exchanged a glance with Daryl, and then eyed Hershel. His face had gone pale.

"Were they attacked?" he asked.

"They were taken," said the woman.

"Taken? By who?" Rick said. His voice was urgent now, and the threat in it was very real.

The woman's lip curled. "By the same son of a bitch who shot me."

Rick tilted his head in that predator way he had. "Hey, these are our people," he said. "You tell us what happened _now_."

His hand flashed out and grabbed the woman on her wounded leg. She sucked in a breath and jerked to her feet.

" _Don't you ever touch me again_ ," she hissed.

Daryl raised his crossbow, ready in case she decided to fight, but Mason stayed still. She was staring at Rick, not quite sure how to react.

"You better start talkin'," Daryl said. "Or you'll have a much bigger problem than a gunshot wound."

The woman's eyes flicked back and forth between Rick and Daryl, wide with pain and fury. "Find him yourself," she said.

Rick watched her for a long moment, and Mason watched Rick. She wasn't sure she liked this woman, but she didn't think she had anything up her sleeve, either.

Finally, Rick pressed a hand to Daryl's crossbow and Daryl lowered it. Rick's eyes never left the woman's and she never flinched.

"You came here for a reason," he said.

The woman scowled, clearly reluctant, but after a moment she spoke.

"There's a town. Woodbury. Bout seventy-five survivors, I think they were taken there."

Mason blinked in shock. Rick drew back like this news was too much to believe.

"A whole town?" he said.

"Run by a guy who calls himself the Governor," the woman said. Her voice burned with hatred. "Pretty boy. Charming. Jim Jones type."

"He got muscle?" Daryl asked.

"Military wannabes. They have armed sentries on every wall."

"You know a way in?" Rick said.

"Place is secure from walkers but we could slip our way through," the woman said.

Mason swayed a little, the shock and emotion of the day catching up to her. It hadn't quite hit her yet that Maggie and Glenn had been captured and she thought maybe it was because if it did now, unstable as she felt, she would not handle it well.

Rick looked back at his little group, and his eyes narrowed slightly when they rested on her. She tried to straighten up, wondering what he saw on her face.

He turned back to the woman. "How'd you know how to get here?"

"They mentioned a prison," the woman said. "Said which direction it was in, said it was a straight shot."

Rick nodded, apparently coming to a decision. "This is Hershel," he said, pointing. "Father of the girl that was taken. He'll take care of your leg."

Then he glanced meaningfully at Daryl and Mason and headed back to the cell block.

Mason's stomach dropped about a mile when they returned and she got a clear look at Beth's face. It was happy, lit up by the company of Carol and Little Asskicker, and they might've had a windfall from all the bad shit but Glenn and Maggie were taken and now they had to tell Beth and ruin that perfect smile and _fuck fuck fuck._

Beth looked for Mason immediately, and when she saw the expression on her face her smile died, just like Mason knew it would. Oscar and Axel gathered around as Rick bent and whispered something in Carl's ear. Carl nodded and took off for the commons room.

When he was gone, Rick said, "We got the woman to talk. She said Glenn and Maggie were taken."

Beth gasped. "Taken?"

Rick nodded. "She said there's a town not far from here. She thinks they were taken there."

"Thinks?" Carol said. She was sitting on the steps to the upper level, rocking Asskicker to sleep like she'd never been gone. "What if she's wrong?"

"We don't have anything else to go on," Mason said.

"How do you know we can trust her?" Oscar said.

Beth glared at him. "This is Maggie and Glenn. Why are we even debatin'?"

"We ain't," Daryl said. "I'll go after 'em."

"Well this place sounds pretty secure," Rick said. "You can't go alone."

Beth's face hardened, her eyes like flint. "I'll go."

"No," Mason growled and found herself on the receiving end of Beth's glare. Before either of them could say anything else, Axel stepped forward.

"I'll go, too," he said.

Oscar glanced from Axel to Rick. "I'm in," he said.

Rick nodded and looked from one person to the next, sizing them up. "Oscar and Daryl, you come with me," he finally said. "We need to see if Hershel's finished up with our new friend's leg, because she's coming with us."

Beth stepped forward. "What about me?" she demanded.

Rick laid a hand on her shoulder. "I can't take everyone. There needs to be a group back here to defend this place," he said. "But thank you."

She didn't try to argue, but Mason could feel her burning holes into the back of her skull as she followed Rick, Daryl and Oscar to the commons room.

When they got to the door, Rick turned to her. "I didn't say your name either, Mason."

Mason gaped at him. "What…are you saying I'm not going?"

"Not this time."

"Why?"

"Because I can't take everyone," Rick repeated. "And you look like you're a thread away from unraveling."

Mason bristled. "I could say the same about you."

Regret clamped her mouth shut instantly. The pain that flickered across his expression echoed in her own chest, and she fully expected him to throw her across the room, but in the end he just nodded.

"Stay here," he said.

So she did.

~m~

Mason stood in the prison yard long after the car had disappeared up the road. Rick and his little group were gone. The others had come out to see him off but had gone back inside. She thought maybe Beth would have stayed to talk with her, or more likely yell at her, but she hadn't. Mason was alone.

She stared out into the woods for a long time, debating. She had her fire iron, and one of the communal hand guns. She'd grabbed her iPod while Rick's group was gathering supplies for the rescue mission. She wasn't _entirely_ alone.

She knew she shouldn't go. She should stay, like Rick asked her to. But she just didn't think she could take another minute in that prison, with those people, sitting around wondering whether Rick's group would return with Glenn and Maggie, or whether they return at all.

It was the supplies that convinced her. The basket was full of formula and not much else. There were other things they needed.

She slipped on her headphones and started off, casting frequent glances behind her just in case. But no one looked for her, and she snuck out of the hole in the fence without incident.

The woods were serene in the afternoon glow. Mason played music loud enough to hurt her ears but it only made the woods more peaceful. She felt the weight of the day melting off, sure that it would return but only when she was ready.

She didn't go in the same direction as Glenn and Maggie. She followed the trail she and Daryl had taken when they found the candy bars, and soon came across the same gas station. She didn't stop. They'd already taken everything useful. She carried on up the road until she came to a tiny strip mall.

There was a convenience store that looked bare as a desert skeleton, and next to it a liquor store that had clearly been looted but not emptied.

Mason stopped when she saw it. The dark, broken glass called to her like a siren, and eventually her feet took her right past the store she actually needed in favor of the warm wine-and-cardboard smell of the other.

She made a quick sweep of the little building but found no surprises, and when she was fairly certain she was alone she let herself become distracted by the gleam of the bottles. A lot of the shelves were sparse, and a lot of the glass was broken, but she gathered what she could find and arranged it in the middle of the floor near the cash register.

She counted it all out- gin, rum, brandy- and with each bottle she felt the last of her stress dwindle. She was surprised to find fewer bottles of vodka than of whiskey. She wished she could include a few bottles of beer, but even if those remaining had not gone bad she was not crazy about the taste of warm beer.

Finally, at the back of the store, she found what she hadn't dared let herself hope she would find. One single bottle of Grey Goose, and not one of the small ones, either. It was shoved back behind several bottles of cheap tequila, like someone was trying to hide it.

Mason grinned and grabbed the bottle. "Tough shit."

She popped the cap off and took a long pull, wincing a little at the undiluted taste of it but smiling when it went right to her head. She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast that morning, and there was nothing to cut the effects.

 _Good,_ she thought and drank another mouthful.

She leaned against the checkout counter, surrounded by a standing army of booze, and grinned at the ceiling. It had been a while since she'd had a drink, and she was a little out of practice if the fuzziness in her mind was anything to go by.

 _You shouldn't be doing this,_ a part of her thought. _You're out here for supplies._

But another part of her thought, _Why shouldn't vodka be part of those supplies?_

She sat for a long time, nursing her bottle, letting images wash over her mind. Beth's anger when Mason told her no, Daryl's smile, Rick holding Little Asskicker for the first time…

Maggie with a bloody bundle in her arms.

Hershel with his eyes closed, not knowing if they would open again.

T-Dog ruffling her hair, telling her good morning.

Mason closed her eyes. Her hand gripped the bottle so tightly she thought it might break, but it didn't. She was the only thing breaking here.

She bent double as the sobs overcame her, so much all at once that it felt like her head would explode. Her mouth opened wide as if to scream, but all that came out was a wounded, shuddering breath. It felt like a knife being driven into her gut over and over again.

She was trapped. She couldn't breathe and she couldn't escape because she wasn't strong enough to leave and she wasn't strong enough to stay and-

" _FUCK!_ " she screamed, till she thought her vocal cords would snap.

A moment later, a shadow shambled toward her, ragged from climbing in through the broken window. There was no time to grab her fire poker. As the walker fell on her, she smashed one of the nearby bottles and drove the broken end through its temple.

Blood trickled through the stem of the bottle like wine, splattering her chest. She kicked the walker away with a snarl of disgust and scrambled to her feet.

The room swayed. She had to steady herself against the cash register before she could even think about moving. She stared at the unbroken bottle in her other hand while she recovered her balance, or at least as much balance as she was going to recover. For a moment she thought about tossing it across the room, but at the last moment, right as she was lifting it above her head, she stopped herself. She just couldn't.

"You can't do _shit_ , can you?" she slurred to herself and stumbled over the body of the walker. She was about to leave with her one, lonely bottle, but at the last second she turned around and grabbed two more at random.

The convenience store was as bare as she was expecting, but she did manage to find a few rolls of gauze and a couple diapers scattered across the tile floor. She stuffed everything into a paper bag and set off for the prison.

The sun was going down by the time she returned, reminding her of just how goddamn long this day has been. Her muscles ached and her head swam. She could feel the hangover settling in behind her temples, spurred on by her earlier adrenaline and the lack of food in her belly. A good, fatty piece of venison would take the edge off.

She crept silently into the cell block, hoping she could make it to her bunk without anyone questioning where she'd been. But luck was with her. As far as she could tell, no one was there. Her heart stuttered a little at the emptiness of the place, but then she heard familiar voices nearby and she relaxed.

When she'd dropped off her finds, hiding the booze under her mattress, she followed the voices to the commons area. Everyone was there, plus four.

Mason hesitated with her foot in the door, appraising these newcomers. The most formidable of the group was a broad-shouldered black man. He was sitting at one of the tables next to a petite young woman who looked so much like him she could only be his sister. Further away, two other men huddled close together. One of them was older, but they both shared the same brown hair and blue eyes. They were staring at something on the floor.

Mason sucked in a breath when she saw the body, its face covered up so she couldn't tell who it was. But everyone looked up at the sound of her gasp, and when she counted she realized it wasn't one of her own.

She let out her breath and resisted the urge to massage her aching temples.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I didn't realize we'd be having company."

"Mason," Hershel greeted her. "This is Tyreese's group." He nodded to the hulking man, who stood up as she approached.

"Are you the leader of this group?" Tyreese asked.

She almost laughed, but it most certainly would have hurt. "No," she said, touching her fire iron. "But I'm kind of like the bouncer."

Despite the fact that he easily dwarfed her, he held his hands up in surrender. "We come in peace," he said. Mason bit back another giggle, picturing the man as a Martian.

So she was still a little drunk. She needed that venison even more. Or maybe just another nip from the bottle…

"I brought them in," Carl said suddenly. "They came in where the walls are down. I found them in the tombs and brought them here."

Mason had trouble looking into Carl's eyes. It was like they were new eyes. They didn't belong to the little boy she'd sorted food with.

"Okay," she said. "But…"

She didn't finish. She knew everyone else had already thought of it. Rick was going to come back at some point, and when he did…

Mason shook her head, which was painful. "Okay," she repeated. "So who is Tyreese's group?"

Tyreese pointed to the woman beside him. "This is my sister, Sasha," he said. The woman nodded wordlessly. She looked tough. "That's Ben and his dad, Allen." He pointed to the young man and the older man in turn.

Mason frowned as she looked at them. Their eyes were bright with grief, but there was something behind them that set off alarm bells in her head.

"Charmed," she said. "Who was that?" She pointed to the veiled body.

"My wife," Allen spat.

Tyreese gave him a warning glance and said, "Donna."

Mason nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek. She could see Beth from the corner of her eye, feeding the kid. She didn't look at her.

"Sorry for your loss," she said and left the room.

~m~

After tossing and turning for several hours, Mason sat up in her bunk. The cell block was dark, quiet except for someone's gentle snores. Her skull throbbed. The silence was a cruel roar in her ears. She grabbed her iPod and snuck out of the cell.

The moon was close to full, and so bright it was almost daylight. The yard and the trees beyond shone silver. Mason breathed in and out, letting the clear, pure scent of the night flood her muddled senses.

She probably shouldn't have indulged so late in the day. It was always harder for her to sleep after drinking, and after a day like today she ached for sleep. Even just one short hour of nothingness would have been nice but apparently her douchebag brain was not going to let that happen.

She sighed and skipped over the current song for an angrier one…

Someone touched her shoulder. She jumped and swung around, fumbling for her fire poker, but when she caught sight of who it was she stilled.

"Jesus _Christ_ , Beth, watch who you fucking sneak up on!"

"Sorry," Beth muttered.

Mason waited in silence for Beth to explain why she was there, but when she didn't speak Mason said, "Couldn't sleep?"

"Not really."

"I'm sorry."

Beth shook her head. "I just can't stop thinkin' about Maggie, and Glenn. I should be out there, makin' sure they come back."

"They'll come back," Mason said. "Rick will make sure of it."

"Maybe," Beth said. "But that's my sister out there. I shouldn't be stuck here doin' nothin'!"

"But Rick was right. We can't just leave this place unguarded."

"That's not why he wouldn't let me go."

Mason didn't know what to say, because it was exactly the reason she hadn't wanted Beth to go, either. Beth was strong, but she was not a fighter the same way that she and Rick and Daryl were fighters. She couldn't imagine leading Beth into danger.

Beth gazed off into the woods, lips pressed into a thin line. Mason recognized the same expression from the day before, when they'd taken their walk together.

"They don't want me out here," Beth said.

"What?"

"I mean, they don't want me out there."

"Well…of course not. They want you safe. They care about you."

"They care about you, too."

Mason flinched. "Beth-"

"They do!" Beth insisted. "I know you don't wanna see it, but they do! But they still let you go out."

"They let you out, too."

"Only because I was with you. Didn't you hear Daryl? He said _you_ can take care of yourself, but he didn't say anythin' about me." She glared at her feet. "They think I'm weak. I guess I am."

"You're not," Mason growled. "Fuck what anyone thinks."

"Then what about what _you_ think?" Beth demanded. "You didn't want me to go, either. I'm not stupid. I see how you look at me."

Mason drew back a step. How did she look at Beth? What did Beth see when Mason looked at her? Her stomach tied itself into knots, but then Beth went on.

"Like I need protectin'. Like I'm fragile."

"That's not…" But Mason trailed off. She couldn't lie to her.

Beth nodded. "So that _is_ what you think of me."

"Beth, no, you're not fragile. If you were, you would have given up a long time ago."

In her mind she was seeing herself, surrounded by a circle of walkers, listening to what she then believed would be the last song she would ever hear. She almost missed it when Beth winced.

"You're _not_ ," Mason said.

"Please don't lie to me," Beth said, rubbing absently at her wrist.

"I'm not lying. I didn't want you to go with Rick because…I…care about you."

It was even harder to admit than she thought it would be. The words came out stilted and awkward, and she could tell Beth didn't believe them.

"Mason, it isn't good enough that I didn't…that I made it this far," she said. "I need to be able to contribute more to this group than just babysitting."

"Beth-"

"I need you to teach me to fight."

Mason swallowed, but it caught halfway down her throat. She couldn't speak, and in any case she couldn't think of anything to say. Beth watched her with an expression that was strangely reminiscent of the mysterious samurai's.

Eventually, Mason cleared her throat. "C'mon," she rasped. "It's been the longest day in the history of shit days, and we should really try to sleep."

"Mason. I really need your help-"

"Alright!" Mason snapped. "I'll think about it. Now let's get back inside."

Beth grimaced but did not argue, and Mason wished the last few minutes had never happened.

~m~

She avoided Beth all the next morning, even going as far as to skip breakfast even though she desperately needed it. Instead she took her iPod and escaped outside.

It was a beautiful morning, hot but not unbearable, without a single cloud in the sky. She smiled a clear, bright, genuine smile. Despite her bad knee, despite her hangover, despite everything or maybe because of it, she wanted to run. She hadn't run for leisure in years. She probably shouldn't now. But it wasn't an urge, it was a need.

"Fuck it," she whispered and put on her headphones.

She started running when she was outside the fence, keeping it to a steady jog until her knee got used to the rhythm. It didn't hurt yet. Her muscles felt better as they loosened and stretched, moving in time with the music. Her whole body did.

She pushed herself faster, the music urging her on. Sweat gathered on her forehead. It felt like it was purging all the bad shit right out of her skin. She never wanted to stop.

She didn't know how long she spent out there, but the sun had risen above the treetops by the time she'd made a whole circuit around the prison. She came to a reluctant stop when she reached the hole in the fence. Everyone was probably awake by now. Maybe Rick had returned with Glenn and Maggie. Wiping the sweat from her brow, she made her way back inside the grounds. She felt worlds lighter than she had yesterday. Her knee ached a little, but it was worth the exchange.

Tyreese and his group were outside, just inside the inner gate. She couldn't tell from so far away, but it looked like they were arguing. Mason narrowed her eyes and hurried up the path, but before she reached them Axel and Beth appeared, carrying a shovel and a pick axe. Tyreese and Sasha rushed to grab the tools before Allen and Ben could. Axel and Beth exchanged a glance and then they headed back inside.

Suspicion pricked her stomach. She didn't think Sasha or Tyreese had anything to hide, but she didn't trust Allen. His pain she could understand, but there was always something just beneath the surface with him…

Tyreese and Sasha made their way into the yard, toward the place where T-Dog and Lori were buried. Allen and Ben turned back to head into the prison. Mason followed them. Suddenly she didn't want them around the rest of the group without her there to keep an eye on things.

They nearly ran into her as she was walking through the door, Donna's body hoisted between the two of them.

"Jesus!" Allen exclaimed. "Watch where you're going!"

Mason stepped aside without a word and watched them go. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten yet, and her knee twinged- she was probably going to regret that run tomorrow. But she didn't want to let those two out of her sight, and besides it was easier to evade Beth out here.

She lurked near the fence while Tyreese's group dug the grave- or rather, Tyreese and Sasha dug the grave. It didn't escape her notice that they never let Allen or Ben have either of the tools.

"Where've you been hidin' all morning?"

Mason didn't know whether to laugh or scream. How was it this damn girl always found her when she didn't want to be found?

"I went for a run," Mason answered.

"Okay. So when do we start trainin'?"

 _Fuck me sideways…_

"We don't," Mason said through clenched teeth.

Beth blinked, apparently torn between shock and outrage. "Are you…are you kiddin' me? Last night you said-"

"I said I'd _think_ about it."

"And you've thought about it."

"Yes."

"Mason, I need to know how to fight. I don't wanna be dead weight anymore."

Mason pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're not dead weight, but I won't teach you to fight. There's no reason. Besides, it's not like I'm a professional or anything."

"Bet you know more than I do."

"It doesn't matter either way."

Beth glared at her, chin trembling, but not like she was about to cry. More like she was resisting the urge to eviscerate her. After a moment, she turned without another word and stormed off.

Mason leaned against the fence with a heavy sigh and thought longingly of the bottle beneath her mattress.

~m~

Rick drove up to the prison not long after Tyreese's group had finished with the grave and gone inside.

 _Just as well,_ she thought as her heart leapt and she jogged down to the gate where Carl and Carol already were. Better to warn Rick beforehand that there was company.

Rick was embracing Carl at the inner gate when she reached them. He didn't seem to bear any wounds, but over his shoulder she saw Carol looking urgently into the car, which put a knot in her stomach.

She stepped out of the way as Glenn drove through the gate. She caught a glimpse of the feral woman staring pensively out the window and nothing more as the car passed by.

Rick caught her eye. The pain and anxiety in his expression made her throat tighten.

She opened her mouth to speak, but Carol beat her to it.

"Daryl?"

Mason froze.

 _No._ Not Daryl.

Rick shook his head and quickly laid a hand on Carol's shoulder, who looked as though she was about to have a panic attack.

"He's alright," Rick said. "He's alive."

Mason felt only the briefest relief, because Rick had more to say.

"We ran into his brother."

From the look on Carol's face she was quick to comprehend, but Mason was a little slower. His brother, the asshole? His brother who was supposed to be dead? Did Rick mean they ran into him in walker form?

But then Rick said, "They went off." And suddenly it was painfully clear.

His brother the asshole was alive, somehow, and Daryl had chosen him over the group.

Daryl was gone. Daryl had left.

Mason stood very still while her mind raced. Half of her was conscious of the pain on Carol's face, the tears gathering in her eyes.

"He left?" she murmured.

Rick nodded.

"Daryl left?" Carol said. "He's just gone? Is he coming back?"

Rick didn't say anything, but the look he gave her must have been answer enough because the tears spilled over. Rick put his arm around her shoulder and started guiding her up the path. Mason followed mechanically, shutting the gate behind her. There was something in her brain, something aside from the grief that she would never see Daryl again. It burgeoned as she listened to the gravel crunch beneath her feet.

Daryl had left the group. He'd had the balls to do it.

Even though he'd been with them longer. Even though they were his family.

He left.

Mason breathed in and straightened her spine.

It would take a will of steel. It would take nuts the size of Oklahoma. But if Daryl could do it, so could she.

 _Tonight,_ she thought. _While the others are asleep._

An image of Beth, asleep with her arms around her, popped into Mason's head but she quickly stamped it out. She couldn't stay here any longer and she'd known it for a while now. Daryl had known it, too, and now he was gone.

Her eyes flickered up to Rick.

She would go tonight. But there were some things to take care of first. She hurried to catch up.

Carl glanced up at her, clearly apprehensive and she grimaced in agreement, but before either of them could think of a way to broach the subject they were in the prison yard, and everyone else was there, too.

She watched from afar as Maggie hugged Hershel and then Beth. Glenn was leaning against the car. His face was a mess, covered in bruises and cuts and a black eye the size of a billiards ball.

Mason's heart beat quicker in her chest, until she reminded herself that soon none of this would matter.

Beth caught her attention as she flitted down toward them. But she didn't spare a glance for Mason. She wrapped her arms briefly around Rick and gave him a peck on the cheek before heading back to her sister.

Mason swallowed around the lump in her throat as Beth took Maggie's hand and led her inside.

Tonight she would be gone. Nothing mattered.

Rick turned to Carl. "Go on inside," he said. But he didn't dismiss Mason and she felt strangely privileged. She looked around for Glenn but he was nowhere to be seen. It was just her and Rick and Hershel.

She glanced at Hershel, wondering if he would mention the newcomers or if she would have to do it.

"Well, looks like we have a new problem on our hands," Hershel said. "Did you get a good look at him?"

For a second, Mason thought he was talking about Merle. But then Rick shook his head and said, "He had Daryl and Merle pitted against each other. A crowd cheering for them to fight to the death. What kind of a sick mind does that?"

Oh. Not Merle. The Jim Jones pretty boy Governor that the woman mentioned. Mason stared down at her shoes, pretending that she didn't care, but a pit was starting to grow in her stomach.

"The kind this world creates," Hershel said. Then he grew silent, and that's when he looked back at Mason. For a moment, they shared the same tension.

Rick didn't miss the exchange. He glanced back and forth between them and said, "What's wrong? The baby?"

Hershel shook his head. "The baby's healthy. Eats like a horse, sleeps like a rock."

Rick breathed out and smiled, but only briefly. Mason fidgeted, realizing that she really had no idea how to broach this subject and hoping to the heavens that Hershel was wiser.

"So what is it?" Rick asked.

Hershel sighed. "We have…company," he said.

Rick didn't say anything and his expression didn't change, but Mason didn't fail to notice that he reached automatically for his gun.

"Not bad company," she said quickly. "Just…unexpected."

"Who?" he growled.

"A man named Tyreese, and his sister Sasha, and their friends, Allen and Ben," Hershel answered.

"Why are they here?"

"They found a way in through the broken part of the prison," Mason said, "and Carl led them in through the tombs. He saved their lives."

Rick paused and his eyes seared hers. She could see the ghost of the man from the boiler room in them. She shivered.

"What do you think of them?" he asked. "What kind of people are they?"

With a jolt she realized that he was specifically asking her. Suddenly she felt a little queasy.

"Tyreese and Sasha are good people. I like them," she said, realizing as she said it that this was the truth.

"And the other two?"

Mason hesitated. How could she saw for sure what she felt in her gut? How could she say anything if there was the possibility that she could influence his decision?

 _You'll be gone tomorrow…_

"Allen just lost his wife," Mason hedged. "He and Ben- er, his son- are grieving."

A little too late, she realized that this maybe wasn't the best thing to say to Rick so soon after Lori. His blazing eyes took her in for a long moment and she couldn't read them. Her palms began to sweat. Hershel held his breath at her side.

Finally, Rick blinked and a little bit of the frenzy in his eyes died down. "C'mon," he said and stalked off without waiting to see if either of them followed.

Mason and Hershel exchanged an apprehensive glance and trailed after him.

The others looked up as they entered the common room. Tyreese and Sasha scrambled to their feet, half-afraid and half-hopeful, but Rick didn't stop. He cast them an unfriendly glance and strode silently into C block.

Mason gave them what she hoped was an encouraging smile but what was more probably an awkward grimace. Tyreese and Sasha looked back at her uneasily. She wished she could tell them everything would be fine but she didn't want to lie.

Carl locked the door behind her and Hershel. Rick was standing by the stairs with Beth, staring down at the creature in his arms as it began to cry. Beth's eyes glowed, like the wailing didn't bother her. Mason stifled a sigh.

Rick handed the baby back to Beth, quickly, like it was a bomb about to explode. His eyes darted around the room, seeing things that weren't there.

Mason's pulse quickened. He was starting to unravel.

She wasn't the only one to see it. Hershel laid a hand on Rick's shoulder and guided him a few feet away, murmuring words too low for her to hear.

"You are good with her."

Mason turned to see Axel leaning against the stairs next to Beth. Beth smiled, the Little Asskicker in her arms quieting as she was rocked back to sleep.

"Thanks."

"You got little sisters?" Axel asked.

"No," Beth said.

"How old are you anyway?"

Mason stiffened.

"Seventeen," Beth answered. She answered this more shyly than before, and her eyes flickered up briefly to touch on Mason's face before looking away.

"Seventeen," Axel repeated. "Interesting."

Mason's fists clenched tight enough that her nails bit into her palms. Before she could move- to intervene or take a more violent route, she hadn't decided- Carol, who had been watching the whole exchange, stepped in front of her with a quelling expression. Mason hesitated, and then forced herself to relax.

 _Get a grip,_ she thought. _You'll be gone tomorrow and Beth can go off and be with whoever she likes and it won't matter to you and you won't matter to her so don't be a fucking psycho!_

Carol took Axel aside, presumably to tell him to fuck off. Mason didn't try to listen in. She trusted Carol, and besides, it _didn't_ matter. She was still trying to come to grips with that. Despite having only known these people for a short time, it was hard to imagine not being with them.

 _Grow a pair and stop whining,_ she chided herself. _Daryl did it. So can you._

It was the only thought that kept her from turning back as she headed to her cell to pack her things.

~m~

It was only later that the group gathered again. Rick and Hershel had just been to check on the woman, who was sleeping so heavily she did not wake as Rick slammed her cell door shut and locked it. Beth came down from the perch with Little Asskicker. Glenn and Maggie leaned out into the hall- from different cells, Mason noticed with concern.

"So what now?" Beth asked. "Do you think the Governor will retaliate?"

Mason frowned but said nothing.

"Yes," Maggie said. There was no uncertainty in her voice.

"Let him try," Glenn muttered. He wouldn't look at Maggie.

"Sounds like he's got a whole town. We're outnumbered and outgunned," Carol said.

"We could use some reinforcements," Hershel said- a gentle reminder.

Rick stared at the floor. Everyone waited in silence for him to speak but he didn't. Instead he glanced from person to person, and then to the cell block door. He nodded once to himself and headed for the commons area. The others flooded after him, sticking close.

Tyreese and his group stood up as soon as they saw them. Tyreese held his hand out to Rick.

"I'm Tyreese."

Rick stared at him until he lowered it.

"How'd you get in?" he demanded.

Mason stiffened. She couldn't decide if it was because he didn't trust them, or if he didn't trust what she had told him.

 _What does it matter?_ she reminded herself.

"There was fire damage to the administrative part of the prison," Tyreese answered. "Walls are down."

"Well that sides completely overrun with walkers, how'd you get this far?"

"We didn't. We lost our friend, Donna."

"I'm sorry about your friend. We know what that's like."

Tyreese nodded and glanced at his sister. "Hershel said you could use some extra hands," he said. "We're no stranger to hard work. We'll go out, get our own food. Stay out of your hair. You got a problem with another group, we'll help with that, too. Anything to contribute."

As he spoke, Mason felt herself relaxing. Here was someone else to help her group after she was gone. She trusted him. This was a good man.

"No."

Mason blinked. No? Fucking _no_?

" _Please_ ," Sasha said, and though she was begging it didn't sound like it. Her voice was sharp, full of fire. She was a fighter. Rick was blind if he couldn't see what she could bring to the group.

"No," Rick repeated.

"Let's talk about this," Hershel said. "We can't just-"

"We've been through this," Rick said. "Tomas, Andrew… Look what happened."

"Axel and Oscar weren't like that," Carol said.

Rick whipped around. "And where's Oscar now?"

Everyone looked at each other, shifting uneasily. It was clear that whatever steadiness Rick had been holding onto for a few precious hours was turning to quicksand.

When no one else spoke, Rick turned back to Tyreese. "I can't be responsible," he said.

"If you turn us out, you are responsible."

Rick was silent for a long time. Tyreese held his stare until Rick's gaze flitted to his group, from one face to the next. He lingered on Hershel, and Carl.

Then he looked up.

His eyes widened with disbelief and panic. He looked down quickly, but the fear remained. She could see it in his trembling fingers as he lifted them to his face and then lowered them again, like he didn't know what to do with them anymore.

"No," he whispered. "No, no, no… Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

"Dad?" Carl said.

But Rick ignored him, pacing back and forth and casting glances up at the perch. Mason followed his gaze but saw nothing.

"Why are you…no…I _can't help you, get out!_ "

"Whoa, whoa," Tyreese said, holding up his hands like he had with Mason, except this time she didn't think it was remotely funny.

"Get out!"

"Rick," she said. "Easy-

" _You don't belong here! Get out!_ "

Abruptly he snatched the gun from his holster and everyone ducked away.

"Whoa! Okay, okay, relax," Tyreese said. "We're going. Nobody needs to get shot here. We're going."

But Rick kept screaming, no longer seeing him, no longer coherent. Glenn ushered Tyreese's group out of the commons room and then they were gone.

" _Rick!_ Rick, calm down!"

Mason leapt forward suddenly and grabbed Rick's arm, lowering the gun. She only realized after the fact what a potentially stupid idea it was. But the gun didn't go off, and Rick didn't push her away like she thought he would. His eyes reeled wildly but his body stilled.

"Rick," Mason said. "Stay with me."

"Why…why are you here?" he whispered.

She blinked and stepped back. Was he talking to her now?

She didn't have the strength to ask him what he meant and then Hershel was there, guiding him gently back into the cell block. Everyone else hovered uncertainly, watching Rick disappear, watching Mason stand still.

 _Why are you here?_

Mason shut her eyes.

~m~

When she was sure everyone else was asleep, Mason rolled out of bed. She winced as the mattress creaked, but Beth didn't stir on the top bunk. She eased her backpack onto her shoulders; she was tempted to run before anyone discovered her, but she didn't want the bottles to clink together in her haste. Thankfully no one seemed the wiser as she snuck out of her cell.

The night air greeted her like an old friend. She drank it in greedily, pretending that it gave her courage. She wished she could've picked a better night; the moon outlined everything in stark whites and navy blues, a spotlight to her treachery.

 _It's not treachery,_ she thought. _It's necessary._

She didn't think about Rick. She didn't think about Hershel. She didn't think about Carol or Glenn or Maggie. She certainly didn't think about Beth.

She wouldn't be coming back. Best not to dwell.

~m~

In the morning, she sang a different tune loud enough to drown out the birds singing in their trees.

She was dwelling, of course. Dwelling, apparently, was the only thing she knew how to do with real vigor. She had already dug out her trusty bottle of vodka and was contemplating a sip, although that in itself was fraught with peril.

 _If I do, I could get drunk and thus eaten and/or maimed by walkers,_ she thought. _If I don't, I'll keep thinking about the group._

It not a decision made easily, so she wandered the woods while the pros and cons were weighed. By the position of the sun, she knew that most of the them were awake by now, had probably been up for hours. Had they noticed her absence? Were they too concerned with Rick and this "Governor"? She hoped it was the latter, and yet she didn't.

 _Stop thinking about them! They're not your concern anymore._

What about Rick?

 _He'll make it. He's stronger than you are and you made it._

What about Beth?

 _She's strong, too. She doesn't know it, but she is._

But no matter how many circles she went in she couldn't find the right thoughts to come to a decision, and so the circles continued.

She did notice, as she debated back and forth, that she had not traveled far from the prison. She told herself it was better to reacclimatize slowly to a life on the road, but it was a flimsy excuse.

Which supported the "drink"side.

She was just about to say fuck it and drink anyway, but then she heard the gunshot.

She stopped, heart pounding, every nerve tingling with fear. She held absolutely still, listening, hoping there wasn't another and also not hoping for it. More gunshots meant that the other party was holding its own. None meant that the bullet had hit its mark, whoever it was.

A few moments later, a flurry of shots cut through the silence. Mason flinched and took off running without thinking about it. All she knew was that Rick had only the flimsiest hold on himself and that Beth didn't know how to fight and Daryl was gone and she had left them, too…

And the gunshots were coming from the prison.

She ran faster than her knee wanted to allow, but not for long. It throbbed, jarred by each step, until eventually Mason was forced into a fast limp.

 _Fuckfuckfuck_.

A figure came into view.

She skidded to a halt and ducked behind a tree, expecting a barrage of bullets. They never came, at least not at her. Whoever it was must not have seen her. Holding her breath, she leaned around her hiding place.

The figure was crouched in the treeline just yards away from the prison. In his hands there was a machine gun.

Mason clenched her jaw. She hadn't taken any of the guns, only her fire poker. If she was going to do this, it would have to be at close range.

 _Do what?_ she thought. _You don't belong here anymore. You can't let yourself care._

But she _did_ care. More than she thought she'd care for anyone else after Gina. How the fuck had that happened? Hadn't she sworn to herself that she'd never let it come to this again? Could she just not fucking follow through on _anything_?

More gunshots sounded, volleys of them tossed back and forth between her group and the unlucky whoevers that had decided to fuck with them. Mason shut her eyes tight and pretended it wasn't real.

 _Don't get involved…_

The man in front of her took aim and pulled the trigger.

She was moving in nearly the same second, sprinting despite the agony shooting down her leg. She pulled the fire poker from its sling and raised it to swing, just as the man paused in his shooting.

The sound of her footsteps alerted him. He whipped around, gun aimed, so the swing she'd meant for his head whacked the gun instead, and the bullets intended for hers scattered harmlessly into the trees.

He jerked the gun back. She ducked, avoiding a strike to the head and another few bullets, and smacked the poker against his knees.

He collapsed immediately but continued firing the gun. She ducked behind another tree, this one thinner than the last. Wood chips exploded around her. She crouched as low as she could, hoping the trunk was thick enough at the bottom to catch most of the bullets.

 _Fuck,_ she thought. She should have just taken a goddamn gun. But how the fuck was she to know about this shit? _FUCK._

 _You knew about the Governor and you still left._

Because who else could it be? Who else had a bone to pick with her group?

Her group. _Hers._

She closed her eyes and accepted what her heart already had.

She couldn't leave. She had to go back. But how the fuck was she going to make it through this warzone without a gun?

Suddenly her eyes flew open.

She didn't have a gun.

But she did have her bow and arrow. At the time she justified packing it for nostalgia's sack but maybe fate had a bigger role to play than she suspected.

Her fingers were clumsy with haste and they shook as they dug into her pack, but then the bow was in her hand and she was knocking an arrow and there really was no more time to think. She waited for a break in the gunfire and then she whipped around the tree and loosed the arrow.

It flew truer than she ever dreamed it would. The man screeched and stumbled back with an arrow jutting from his shoulder. The gun drooped in his hand, the muzzle smacking against the ground. She saw her opportunity and leapt from her hiding place.

Before the man could recover, she kicked him in the face, wishing briefly that she had some rad dubstep to accent the sound of his nose breaking. She ripped the gun from his hand and turned it on him, but he was out cold.

After a moment she yanked the arrow from his skin, splattering her face with blood, and shoved both it and the bow into the iron sling.

That was when the absence of sound caught her attention. Or…not the absence of _sound_ , but the absence of gunfire, which chilled her to the bone.

The new sound was a roaring off in the distance, steadily growing as it came closer. She couldn't see the road from where she stood, but the sound was so loud she could track it as it approached. She started running as it flew toward the prison, and broke from the treeline just in time to see a white-and-orange truck ram through the gates into the yard.

She held her breath as the truck came to an abrupt halt, and raised her eye to the gun scope so she could see clearly across the distance.

She checked her surroundings briefly, and found her attention drawn to a white truck parked on the side of the road. A tall, imposing figure stood near the hood, gun in hand, a square of white over one eye.

 _Is that him?_ she wondered, but there was no time to ponder because shrieking groan came from the prison yard, followed by a loud crash.

She turned just in time to see the back of the truck burst open and release a whole flood of walkers.

" _Shit_!" she hissed and scrambled back into a run, although at this point she could barely manage a lopsided jog.

The white truck roared to life as she was running and peeled out, back to wherever it had come from. She paid it no mind. She was hyper-focused on the prison. She had to make it back, she-

" _Mason_!"

She skidded to a stop and there was Rick, fighting off a herd of walkers outside the fence. She barely had time to wonder why he was out there, to wonder guiltily if he'd been looking for her, before she rushed to his side and took aim.

Her gun took down six walkers before she was met with a hollow clicking noise.

"Fuck me in the ass," she muttered and switched back to the fire iron. But there were more walkers than she had seen around the prison since they'd cleared it, and they pushed her and Rick back against the fence.

She glanced at him. "No bullets?" she said.

"No."

She swung the poker and beheaded a walker, but two more took its place. _Goddamn hydra,_ she thought. A second later, one of them grabbed her arm. She stepped back, trying to shake it off, but her spine met with chain link. They were trapped.

In a last ditch effort, she tried kicking the walker away, but her foot sank deep into its abdomen and she lost her balance. She slid to the ground and the walker collapsed on top of her, and walkers were all she could see and this was how she was going to die…

Something yellow flashed in the corner of her eye. A second later, the walker on top of her slumped as a blade cleaved through its skull. She rolled it off and looked up.

A man looked back with the biggest shit-eating grin she had ever seen, and a right arm that was not an arm at all but a home for a very large knife.

"Well hello, sunshine."

~m~

 _"Please don't go,_

 _I'll eat you whole_

 _I love you so_

 _I love you so, I love you so."_


	8. Empty Gold

Note: Hey, ya'll, I'm back! I know it's been a few months but I've been dealing with some things that have kept me from wanting to write much of anything lately. Still, I finally sat my ass down and plugged away until I finished this! It's not much, but I have the next few chapters plotted so hopefully I can just churn them out without as much time in between. Also, the inspiration for the title is "Empty Gold" by Halsey, it's a really cool, intense song that I think fits the theme of this chapter and hopefully captures the emotion of these moments from the show.

8\. Empty Gold

 _"Cause when our demons come,_

 _dancing in the shadows to a game that can't be won…"_

The first thing Mason saw as she followed Rick into the cell block was the gun in Beth's hand. It was one of the few AKs the group had, and she held it like she was cradling a baby. The breath caught in Mason's throat.

Had she been out there with the rest of them when the Governor attacked?

Had they really let her out in the line of fire?

"Hey, girl? I like those legs even better when they're movin'."

The rasping voice came from behind her. She turned to give its owner a scalding glare.

Daryl's brother, Merle, did not look much like him. He was gruff and grimy, sure, but the similarities ended there.

Merle smirked. "You wanna give me another turn there, girl? I can't decide which side of you I like best."

He didn't act like Daryl, either.

When she didn't move, he chuckled and pushed past her, following Rick and Daryl to the center of the cell block.

Rick pressed a hand firmly to Merle's chest. "No."

Merle narrowed his eyes and Daryl looked up.

"Rick," he said. "What are you doing?"

"He can't stay in here," Rick said. "Not with-"

"What the fuck is he doing here?"

Glenn came charging out of his cell. Maggie followed close behind but Glenn pushed her back, angling himself between her and Merle. Daryl stood in front of his brother, who was watching all this with an expression that was half-scorn and half-amusement.

Rick stepped between all of them. "Glenn, calm down, just listen-"

" _Don't fucking tell me to calm down!_ You let him _in_ here?"

"Let me explain-"

"Hey, back off. My brother can stay here if he wants to."

"Glenn, please, just let them talk-"

"I'm done talking, Maggie! That piece of shit is out of here, right now."

"Back. _Off_."

Daryl shoved Glenn away as he made a move for Merle. It might have erupted into a fight if no one else had been there, but Mason jumped in to help Rick keep them apart and Maggie tugged Glenn back by the arm. Through it all, Merle stood back and laughed.

" _Glenn_ ," Rick said. "They have a right to be here."

"Really, Rick? _Merle_? _Merle_ has a right to be here?"

"No," Rick growled. "Not here."

He turned to Merle with an expression that promised violence. Merle didn't stop grinning.

"You aren't staying in here."

"Whatever you say, Officer Friendly."

Rick and Mason led him to the commons area and locked the door. Glenn did not bother hiding the fact that he would have preferred a more permanent separation.

"So after all that," he said, "after what he did to me, to Maggie, after the Governor _rolls up to our front door_ , we're just going to let that son of a bitch into our home?"

"He saved me," Rick said. "He saved Mason."

"And you think that makes him a good person? He only came back because Daryl did!"

"And he's stayin'," Daryl growled. "We're stickin' together now. I ain't losin' him again."

"Maybe none of us should be staying after today," Carol said.

"We're not leaving," Rick said.

"We can't stay here," Hershel argued.

"What if there's another sniper?" Maggie said. "A wood pallet won't stop one of those rounds."

"We can't even go outside," Beth said. She'd put her AK away with the other guns, but Mason still imagined it in her hands.

Glenn ground his teeth. "If Rick says we're not running, we're not running."

"Nah. Better to live like rats."

Everyone turned to see Merle leaning against the cell block door with an insolent expression. Mason curled her lip and wondered how much it would hurt if she punched him right in his redneck jaw.

"You got a better idea?" Rick said.

"Yeah, we should've slid out of here when we had the chance, lived to fight another day. But we lost that window, didn't we? I'm sure he's got scouts on every road outta this place by now."

"We ain't scared of that prick," Daryl said.

"Ya'll should be. That truck through the fence thing? That's just him ringin' the doorbell. We might have some thick walls to hide behind, but he's got the guns and the numbers, and if he takes the high ground around this place? Shit. He could just starve us out if he wanted to."

Mason swayed a little on her feet. The anxiety in the air was palpable.

Maggie's lips pressed into a tight line. "Let's put him in the other cell block."

"No," Daryl said. "He's got a point."

She whipped around to face Merle. "This is all you!" she shouted. "You started this!"

"What's the difference whose fault it is?" Beth said. "What are we gonna do?"

"I said we should leave," Hershel said, staring Rick down. "Now Axel's dead. We can't just sit here."

Rick stared back at him silently, and then he started walking away.

Hershel's eyes flashed with rage.

" _GET BACK HERE!_ "

The outburst was so unexpected that Mason found herself flinching away as the old man rose onto his crutches. Rick stopped but he didn't turn around.

"You're slippin', Rick," Hershel said. "We've all seen it, we understand why, but _now is not the time_. You once said this isn't a democracy? Now you have to own up to that. I put my family's life in _your_ hands. So get your head clear, and do somethin'."

Everyone waited silently for Rick to start shouting, too, but he never did. After a long pause he grabbed one of the communal shotguns and headed for the catwalk without ever speaking a word.

When he was gone, the group milled about uncertainly. Merle snorted and stepped away from the door. Hershel sank back down onto the perch steps, looking more worn and defeated than Mason had ever seen him.

She was so absorbed in everyone else's misery that it startled her when Beth grabbed her arm.

"C'mon," she said. She refused to look at Mason, but her face was pinched in a glare. "You're probably pretty hungry after bein' gone all day."

 _Oh, shit…_ Mason's stomach flipped as she quickly realized how fucked she was. Reluctantly she let Beth pull her into the commons, where Merle was leaning against the far wall. He looked up with sudden interest when they walked in. Mason tried to ignore him.

"Look, Beth-"

"Here."

Beth shoved a bowl of cold chili beans into Mason's hands. Her eyes were flint.

"Better eat up. Wouldn't want you leavin' again on an empty stomach."

"I went for a run."

Beth's eyes sparked with outrage. "Do you think I'm stupid? You took all your stuff. Did you even stop to think how I'd feel wakin' up to your empty bed?"

So apparently there wasn't a way out of this one.

"I came back," Mason said meekly.

" _How could you do that_?" Beth hissed.

Mason blinked. Part of her was astonished by the fury in her voice. The other part of her was hyper aware of how close Beth had leaned in. Close enough that she could feel her breath on her lips. Mason swallowed nervously.

"How could you just _leave_?" Beth kept on. "Like all of this meant nothin' to you? Like _we_ meant nothin'?"

Mason frowned. "Is that what you think?"

"What else is there?"

Mason stepped closer, until there was barely a hairsbreadth between them, until she could count all the little green flecks in Beth's eyes.

"I don't know," Mason said in a low, dangerous voice. "Maybe that it had nothing to do with you? Maybe that I would have needed a pretty damn good reason for leaving?"

"Well maybe you should've told me," Beth said, "instead of sneakin' away like a coward."

"I _came back_. What more do you want from me?"

"Nothin'. I want nothin' from you."

She marched away before Mason could respond, leaving her standing alone with her bowl of cold beans.

" _Shee_ -it."

Well, not completely alone.

Merle whistled, long and low. Mason glowered without ever looking quite at him.

"She spits fire fit to shame the devil," he said.

"I'm not actually in the mood for your redneck poetry, thanks."

"Oh I know, sunshine. You were hopin' for a little of that country girl sugar, weren't ya? Something sweet to take that bad taste outta your mouth."

Heat flushed her cheeks. She lifted her chin, pretending not to notice. "You're the only thing leaving a bad taste in my mouth, you backwoods mutant."

"Come over here and I'll leave you with something better."

Her hands twitched into fists.

 _Don't even fucking give him the satisfaction,_ she thought.

Instead of decking him square in his smug face, she walked over and thrust the bowl of chili beans into his hand.

"Don't choke," she said and went to get her iPod.

Since she couldn't go for a run, she settled for a walk through the tombs to clear her head.

A lot had changed in a day. She was still struggling to wrap her mind around it.

She had decided to stay. That was the big one. And now that she had, everything seemed simultaneously clearer and darker than it had before. She had responsibilities again, and people to take care of, and now that she knew the consequences of failing, her fear was that much greater.

They were at war with the Governor. That was a new one. She'd never been at war with anyone, except the few times she'd played Uno with her friends before the world as they knew it ended. Of course, even the most ruthless draw four card had never inspired murder sooo… no. War was definitely new.

And to top it all off, Beth now evidently did not want anything to do with her. Somehow, despite the magnitude of everything else, this shadowed her mind most darkly. Rationally she knew that this was not her biggest problem, but whenever she let herself think about it her chest closed up with anxiety.

So yes, lots to think about. The head-clearing she'd hoped for had backfired terribly. With a sigh she turned to head back the way she'd come.

No sooner had she returned to the commons area than a shadow stepped into her path. She jumped back, reaching for her fire poker before realizing that it was just Carol.

"Jesus fucking Christ-"

"Can we talk?"

Carol's tone did not match her polite request. Everything about her was wintry.

"Uh, yeah…what about?" Though she was fairly certain.

Carol stepped into the shadows, out of sight of Merle, who was sitting at a table sharpening his knife-hand. She leveled Mason with a look that was pure ice.

"I'm only going to say this once, so listen up. This group doesn't need any wishy-washy bullshit. If you're going to stay here, then stay, but if you leave you better stay gone. Understood?"

Shame made her cheeks flame. "Did Beth tell you I left?"

"She didn't have to. You came in with all your belongings on your back. The rest of the group may have been too shocked to notice but I know an escape when I see one."

So Beth hadn't told anyone. Her loyalty made Mason feel even more like shit.

"I'm staying," she said quietly.

Carol studied her silently for a moment and then nodded. Her eyes seemed to soften, but only slightly. "Glad to hear it."

When she returned to her cell she unpacked everything. The backpack she shoved under her bunk to gather dust. Beth said nothing to her. Falling asleep that night, drowning in silence so loud it made her ears ring, took a concentrated effort. It was only the tentative reminder that she was home- that the mattress beneath her was _her_ mattress, that the people sleeping around her were _her_ people- that soothed her enough to let her rest.

~m~

She was lying on her cot the next day with her leg propped up on a pillow. She couldn't tell how much damage she'd done to her knee but it hurt like a bitch to put weight on it. After a short discussion that morning with the group about their dwindling supply of food and ammo, she'd been quick to limp back into her cell. She wouldn't be much use to anybody if she fucked up her leg even more.

She was just slipping into a doze when Carl rushed into the cell block, calling for Rick. Mason sat up immediately, swinging her legs over the side of the bed despite the subsequent stab of pain.

"Dad! It's Andrea. She's outside."

Mason narrowed her eyes. She didn't know much about the woman but she'd heard Daryl mention something about her being involved with the Governor.

Rick glanced around the room, stiff with apprehension. "Alright, get your guns. We don't know who she might've brought with her."

Mason, Merle, Daryl and Michonne hurried outside after Rick, weapons at the ready. Mason's eyes landed immediately on the figure struggling through the horde of walkers swarming the prison yard. She held a walker out in front of her with some kind of leash, but though most of the others ignored her, the nearest were not fooled. As she approached the inner gate, four or five began closing in.

"Are you alone?" Rick said while Daryl and Merle split off, searching for signs of an ambush.

"Open the gate," Andrea called.

" _Are you alone_?"

"Rick!"

The desperation in her voice made Mason's pulse quicken. Rick threw the gate keys to Daryl and the woman stumbled inside. Merle dispatched her zombie buddy with his knife-hand.

Before Andrea could catch her breath, Rick shoved her roughly against the fence. "Turn around!"

"What?"

Mason curled her lip at the confusion on the woman's face. What did she expect after what her boyfriend had done?

Daryl and Merle flanked them on either side, ready for an attack that never came. Michonne lingered at the edge of the group, watching Andrea with an unreadable expression.

Andrea held still while Rick patted her down, yanking a bag from her shoulder and tossing it to Mason.

"I asked if you were alone," he growled.

"I am!"

Rick nodded, signaling to Merle and Daryl. "Welcome back," he said and pulled Andrea to her feet.

It was a quick procession back into the prison, all of them hyper alert. The tension crowded in on Mason, hot and stifling, so that it took more effort than it should have to breathe. She didn't know if she believed that this Andrea woman was alone but Rick knew her better, and he was stupid enough to take the chance if he thought it might be a trick. Even so, Mason drew her fire iron and kept her eyes on the woman in case she decided to pull anything.

Everyone gathered in the commons room, forming a ragged circle around their visitor. Carol was the first to break it, wrapping her arms around the woman like they were sisters.

Mason struggled to remind herself that this woman had once been a part of the group, _her_ group. But it was almost impossible to reconcile that image with the image of the same woman glomming onto the Governor like a lovestruck teeniebop.

"Hershel, oh my god…" Andrea whispered, catching sight of his stump. When he didn't respond she pulled away from Carol to take in the room. "I can't believe this."

Mason ground her teeth. From what she'd gathered, Andrea and all the others at Woodbury were sitting pretty compared to her group. _Don't patronize us._

Then Andrea turned to Rick.

"Where's Shane?"

Rick's expression darkened but he said nothing. His eyes were cold, faraway, his jaw set in that way he got when he wasn't accepting anyone's bullshit.

Andrea looked around for help but no one else was going to answer, so she asked, "What about Lori?"

Mason's grip tightened around her fire poker, resisting the urge to whack the woman over the head with it.

Rick swallowed, holding Andrea's gaze for a moment before looking away.

"She had a girl," Hershel said. "Lori didn't survive."

"Neither did T-Dog," Maggie chimed in.

Andrea's face fell. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. She stepped toward Carl, saying his name like that would make everything better, but he drew away without looking at her. Mason felt a twinge of satisfaction.

Awkwardly she cleared her throat. "So…you all live here?"

"Here and the cell block," Glenn replied. His expression was no-nonsense. Unfriendly.

"In there? Can I go in?"

Rick cut across her path before she could take a step. "I won't allow that."

"I'm not an enemy, Rick."

Mason snorted. "No, you're just sleeping with him."

Andrea threw her a flat black glare. "I'm sorry, who are you?"

"She's a part of our group," Daryl growled.

Rick nodded. "You know, we had that field, that courtyard, until your boyfriend tore down our fence with a truck and shot us up."

Andrea blinked. "H-he said you fired first…"

"Well he's lying."

"He killed an inmate who survived in here," Hershel said.

"We liked him," Daryl added. "He was one of us."

"I didn't know anything about that," Andrea said. There were tears in her eyes. Mason wondered how genuine they were. "As soon as I found out, I came. I didn't even know you were in Woodbury until after the shootout."

"That was days ago," Glenn said.

"I told you, I came as soon as I could," she said, but finding a sympathetic face nowhere she rounded on Michonne instead. "What have you told them?"

"Nothing," Michonne replied. She was leaning casually against the wall, more sedate and calm than Mason had seen her.

"I don't get it. I left Atlanta with you people and now I'm the odd man out?"

"He almost killed Michonne," Glenn said, "and he would've killed us-"

"With his finger on the trigger!" Andrea said, pointing to Merle, who eyed her insolently. "Isn't he the one who kidnapped you, who _beat_ you?"

Everyone stayed silent.

"Look. I cannot begin to excuse what Phillip has done, but I am here trying to bring us together. We have to work this out-"

"There's nothing to work out," Rick said. "We're gonna kill him. I don't know how, or when, but we will."

Andrea shook her head, staring at Rick like she no longer recognized him. "We can settle this," she said. "There is room at Woodbury, for _all_ of you."

Merle chuckled. "You know better than that."

"We don't need your town anyway," Mason said. "We were doing just fine here until _Phillip_ sent us the welcome wagon."

It wasn't the total truth, but nobody contradicted her.

"What makes you think this man wants to negotiate?" Hershel asked. "Did he say that?"

"No," Andrea admitted.

"Then why did you come here?" Rick growled.

"Because he's gearing up for war. The people are terrified, they see you as killers. They're training to attack."

"I'll tell you what," Daryl said. "Next time you see _Phillip,_ tell him I'm gon take his other eye."

Mason smirked.

"We've taken too much shit for too long," Glenn agreed. "If he wants a war, he's got one."

"Rick. If you don't sit down and try to work this out, I don't know what's gonna happen. He has a _whole town_. Look at all of you. You've lost so much already."

Mason stiffened, exchanging a hard glance with Daryl. This woman had no clue.

"You wanna make this right?" Rick said. "Then get us inside."

"No-"

"Then we have nothing left to talk about."

"There are innocent people!"

But Rick was striding into the cell block, his hand on his gun like he expected a fight in the next room. Andrea watched him go, frustration and disbelief coloring her expression. Mason tapped the fire poker against her knee. She fervently hoped that when the time came, she would be the one to toss the woman out on her ass.

Andrea turned first to Hershel, then to Glenn. "You have to talk to him," she pleaded. "Convince him to see sense."

"He _is_ seeing sense," Glenn replied. "Rick was right, there's nothing to talk about. The Governor killed that chance when he broke down those gates and filled our yard with walkers."

"Glenn, please-"

Maggie stepped forward before she could finish. "Andrea, stop. You aren't gonna change anything here. I wish it was different, but it's not."

With one last desperate glance around the room, Andrea went back outside. No one moved to stop her, but after a moment's hesitation Michonne trailed after her.

Mason looked at Daryl, and she could see the same suspicion in his eyes. "Be right back," she whispered and headed for the catwalk.

Carol and Axel had lined both sides with pallets and metal tables, so she was able to sneak out without either women spotting her. Crouching with her head low, Mason strained to hear what they were saying.

"…I didn't choose him over you, I wanted a life." That was Andrea. "Once we entered Woodbury, you became hostile."

"That's because I could see it," Michonne replied.

"See what?"

"That you were under his spell from the second you laid eyes on him."

"That is not true-"

"And you still are."

"No, I am there because those people _need_ me."

Mason had to stifle a snort. She settled for an exaggerated eye roll instead.

"And what about these people?"

"I am trying to save them, too!"

"I did not realize the Messiah complex was contagious," Michonne said. Her low, woodsy voice was acidic, searing. Mason wanted to stand up and cheer but she kept silent.

"Go to hell, Michonne."

From the sound of it, Andrea was walking away. Mason waited for Michonne to follow her but she didn't.

"He sent Merle to kill me."

The footsteps stopped.

"Would've sent him to kill you, too, if you'd come with me."

There was no anger in Michonne's voice. Only the grim satisfaction of revealing something, of proving someone horribly wrong.

"But you didn't, did you? You chose a warm bed over a friend. That's why I went back to Woodbury. Exposed him for what he is. I knew that it would hurt you."

In that moment, Mason realized two things.

The first was that Michonne, without even doing anything, without even interacting with her, had won her trust.

The second was that she truly despised Andrea.

When the two women parted ways, Mason went back inside. Daryl was waiting for her, one eyebrow raised questioningly, but she shook her head. She didn't think reporting on their dirty laundry would win her any points with Michonne, and in any case it wasn't like it was useful information.

Stifling a sigh, she sat at one of the tables and massaged her knee. Daryl and Glenn left to find Rick. Carol and Maggie had their heads together; from what little she could catch, Mason gathered they were planning how to protect Little Asskicker in case their cell block was breached. Hershel and Carl were counting their food rations for the fifteenth time, discussing ways to make it stretch. Merle had disappeared.

The air was thick with tension, and not just tension but expectation. Before they could've hoped that the Governor might not retaliate but now they no longer had that luxury. This was the first chance any of them had had to catch their breath since Lori's death, and the air wasn't even breathable.

Across the room, Beth was making dinner. She looked completely focused on her task, but every now and then she would pause, staring at the wall in front of her like it was revealing some troubling secret.

Mason reaffirmed her grip on the fire poker. Its unbendable presence comforted her a little, but the decision she had to make still had her heart pounding. Finally, reluctantly, she got to her feet.

Beth looked up as she approached. Her eyes remained cool, guarded and Mason stifled the tiny sting of hurt at the sight of them.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey."

"So…I'm sorry. Like, really fucking sorry. About everything."

Beth said nothing, instead refocusing on her task. Embarrassed, Mason stammered on.

"I-I should've told you. I mean, not about leaving…I mean, yes, about that but not really…Look, all I'm trying to say is I should've been honest about how I felt. I didn't want to get attached to you and your group because…I didn't want to get hurt. You know. But I knew immediately after I left what a shitty decision it was and I promise I'll never do anything like that again. You all are the first real friends I've had since…well, um, since Gina. And…I'm _sorry_. Really. And I promise-"

"Mason? Shut up."

Before Mason could respond, Beth swept her into a tight hug. This time Mason was quick to return it.

"Also, what are your plans for tomorrow?" Mason asked.

Beth leaned away, blinking wide eyes that were suddenly intense with emotion. Mason couldn't place what exactly the emotion was but it made the back of her neck flush with heat.

"I don't know yet…why?"

"Well, I just thought tomorrow'd be as good a time as any to start training. You know, you wanna be a warrior, you gotta put in the hours."

The nameless emotion flickered away and suddenly Beth was beaming from ear to ear. "Really? You promise?"

Mason couldn't help grinning back. "Yeah, I promise."

"Great! What time?"

"I don't know, whenever you-"

"How about after breakfast we look for a place to start? It would've been nice to practice in the yard, but with the walkers…"

She trailed off, and they stared at each other as the reality of their situation flooded back.

"Yeah," Mason finally said. "That's a good idea. We'll find a place in the morning and practice for as long as you want."

Beth smiled a little, but her expression was haunted and Mason felt it echoed in her own.

After dinner that night, everyone gathered in the cell block. Daryl, Hershel and Rick leaned against one of the doors, deep in discussion. Glenn and Maggie sat on the stairs a few steps apart. Carl sat on the upper level, rocking Little Asskicker to sleep. Mason, Beth and Carol sat on the floor, gathered around an array of electric lanterns and their newly-sorted supplies. Mason tried not to think about how close they were to running out of so many things, but every time she did her mind would slip back to the walkers in the yard, or the Governor's attack, and the endless cycle was exhausting.

Andrea had left just as the sun was going down in a car Rick let her borrow. Mason hadn't approved of any of it- letting her go back to their enemy _and_ loaning her a car- but she stayed silent. Beth's hand in hers had subdued her irritation.

Now it was just the group again. _Her_ group. And Merle, of course, lurking around somewhere. She wished they could be rid of him as easily as Andrea but she couldn't stand the thought of losing Daryl in the process.

From across the lantern light, Beth smiled encouragingly, as though she knew all the thoughts swimming in Mason's head. Then she started to sing.

" _They hung a sign up in our town:_

 _'If you live it you won't live it down.'_

 _So she left Monte Rio, son,_

 _just like a bullet leaves a gun._

 _With charcoal eyes and Monroe hips,_

 _she went and took that California trip._

 _Well the moon was gold,_

 _her hair like wind._

 _She said, 'Don't look back,_

 _just come on, Jim.'"_

Mason leaned back against the wall, just like she'd done on that first night in the prison, listening to Beth's voice as it bounced over metal and cement, filling the room like the lantern light. From the corner of her eye she saw Merle creep into the cell block, and on the other side Glenn move to sit next to Maggie. He laid his hand on her shoulder, and she took his hand in hers, and Mason closed her eyes.

Just for a moment, she could pretend. Pretend they were all somewhere else, all of them together, all of them safe. T-Dog would still be alive, and Axel, and Lori would be with Carl and Rick, with Little Asskicker in her arms. They would have found somewhere where survival was a distant memory, and _living_ was their priority. They could restart their life in this new world. Maybe deep in the pines of a mountain, or shored up on the coast of the sea. It wouldn't matter. They'd all be together.

" _You gotta hold on._

 _Take my hand, I'm standing right here,_

 _gotta hold on_."

Mason kept her eyes closed. They were somewhere else. All of them. Just for one moment.

~m~

" _If the morning light don't steal our soul,_

 _we will walk away from empty gold._ "


	9. She's My Ride Home

Note: It's a Beth and Mason chapter ya'll! It gets pretty fluffy in parts, but hopefully not too ridiculous. I've just really been wanting to write a chapter centered around these two so here it is! Also, the song is "She's My Ride Home" by Blue October. I used to be obsessed with it when I was in junior high and I thought it would be perfect for this chapter. I hope you guys like it!

9\. She's My Ride Home

" _We talked, together sharpening a knife,_

 _like killing partners for a life._

 _Hey, we can hide the bodies on the ride home._ "

At first light Mason woke Beth, who sprung out of bed, instantly awake. Her blue eyes sparkled with furtive excitement. Mason rolled her eyes.

"Like Christmas morning, huh?"

"I don't think I ever got a drill sergeant for Christmas."

"I like how you aren't certain whether or not you got one."

"Well, you know, there are a few Christmases I can't remember."

"Oh, me, too. Tequila will do that to you."

They stole a quick breakfast of oats and water before slipping into the tombs. They stuck close together, Mason in the lead, meeting few walkers on the way. Something about the secrecy of the whole thing made her feel silly and breathless, and she welcomed it eagerly.

When they reached the cafeteria, Beth looked at her curiously. Mason shrugged.

"I thought it would be a good place to start."

The cafeteria was empty and quiet, a complete one-eighty from the first time she'd been there. The silence made her skin prickle.

"It's a decent space," she said, shaking off the eeriness. "Doesn't seem like the walkers are getting in. Maybe we could…"

She trailed off. Beth stood in the middle of the room, staring at a wide, dark stain on the floor. Mason stiffened. She could still see Hershel slumped there, blood flying as Rick swung the axe…

"Um…maybe we could try somewhere else."

Beth blinked, wide-eyed as though she were seeing the memory herself, and then she nodded.

"Yeah. I'm sure there're plenty of other places."

They ventured back into the tombs, exploring further than Mason had ever gone. Walkers were more frequent but they came in twos and threes, nothing unmanageable. Beth seemed eager to prove herself, jumping in with her knife whenever she was given the opportunity. Mason tried to ignore the uncomfortable prickling in her gut, the one that told her Beth should stay behind her, that she needed to be protected. The whole point of this day was to prove her gut wrong.

Mason slowed as they approached the administrative wing.

"Why are we stoppin'?" Beth whispered.

"Nobody's cleared this yet. This is where that group came through, remember? They lost one of their own."

Mason's throat tightened with regret at the thought of such waste when allies were as good as gold, but there was nothing to be done about it now.

"If we double back, is there anythin' in the other direction?"

"Infirmary. It's not overrun, but it's dark and there's not much space."

"I thought the whole point of this was to clear a space out."

Mason frowned. Unless they used another cell block, there weren't many places she could think of off the top of her head. A space outside would've been ideal, but there was no way with all the walkers roaming their yard…

"What about the roof?" Beth said.

Mason blinked. "How would we get up there?"

"The windows in the cafeteria. We could try 'em at least."

"We can't. They're barred."

"Then I guess we'll have to use another cell block. What about D? Axel and Oscar lived there for a while."

Mason bit the inside of her lip, reluctant to reveal that she wanted to avoid using a cell block. That she didn't want to be in there alone with the ghosts of dead men because soon that might be her group. That she didn't want to train for battle alone in a space that mirrored where she slept, because it might bring her nightmares to life.

She couldn't tell Beth that. She couldn't. It was ridiculous and stupid, but more than that, she didn't want Beth to feel the same.

"Alright," she said. "C'mon."

Cell block D was brightly lit. The sun coming in through the windows coated everything with balmy gold, but somehow this just augmented the isolation of the room. Mason led the way inside, iron raised for any unexpected visitors. It was haunting to look into the cells and see nothing of her group, nothing to suggest they were alive, or had ever existed.

 _Stop it_ , she thought furiously, rubbing the back of her neck to smooth her prickling hair. _They're alive. Don't be a dumbass._

Assured that the room was clear, Mason turned to Beth. "So what do you think? Is this the finest gym Georgia has to offer, or what?"

Beth grinned. "It is, Sergeant Mason. Are we startin' now?"

Mason stifled a sigh. "May as well."

Starting, however, was a little more daunting than Mason had anticipated. What she'd told Beth was true. She wasn't any kind of professional. All of her skill out there with the walkers came from experience, which she was quick to confide to Beth when ten minutes had gone by and she could think of nothing literally nothing else to say but "expect the unexpected".

"Like, if we could just go outside…" Frustrated, she shook her head. "You know what, fuck this. Beth, come at me like you would a walker."

Beth blinked. "Like…with my knife?"

"Yes."

"I don't know…what if I hurt you?"

"Okay, then use an imaginary knife. Just come at me."

Uncertainly, Beth sheathed her knife and stepped forward. Her movements were hesitant, flighty like a deer that couldn't decide whether or not to dart out in front of a truck.

Mason smirked wryly. "Maybe I should make this more realistic." Shambling forward, she let out a low, guttural growl and reached for Beth.

Beth giggled nervously and backed away. "Mason…"

"C'mon, Beth, or I'm gonna eat you."

Mason inched forward, arms outstretched, and theatrically gnashed her teeth. Beth swiped her imaginary knife at her and kept backing up.

"You're gonna have to get closer than that," Mason growled.

"I know that, just…hold up a second…"

"Walkers won't wait for you to be ready."

Mason grabbed at Beth's arm, pulling her closer, but Beth brought her pretend knife down on Mason's wrist and pushed her away.

"Good…but, like, you know…their brain is in their head."

Beth scowled. "I don't need an anatomy lesson."

She dodged to the side as Mason swiped at her, catching her on the shoulder without finding any purchase.

"You're not holding your knife."

Beth balled her left hand into a fist.

"There. Happy?"

Mason lunged without a word, seizing the front of Beth's shirt. She stumbled back with a gasp, falling to the floor and bringing Mason down on top of her. As though she couldn't help herself, Beth giggled.

Mason frowned. "What's funny? If I were really a walker you'd be my lunch."

"I don't see you takin' a bite," Beth replied. Her eyes glinted, her lips curved up in a smirk. Like a challenge.

With a snort, Mason buried her head in Beth's neck and gently grazed her shoulder with her teeth.

"Gotcha."

Beth fell still, and in the sudden quiet Mason could hear the pulse in her neck. She could feel it under her lips, warm and strong.

Mason pulled away but didn't get up. Beth was staring at her with wide, glittering eyes, and that smile was still on her face but there was something new in her expression, something that made the room seem smaller.

"Gotcha," Mason whispered again. She couldn't stop staring at the place her lips had touched, the delicate line of Beth's shoulder blade, so close to her neck, so close to her jaw line, her lips…

"Nope," Beth said, startling her. " _I_ got _you_."

Before she could respond, Beth reached up and dug her fingers into Mason's sides. Mason spluttered and tried to hold her ground, but Beth was relentless.

"Beth…s-stop…goddammit!"

Desperately Mason rolled to the side but Beth rolled with her and pinned her to the floor. Her fingers drilled into Mason's ribcage, wickedly precise. Mason squirmed violently but couldn't break free.

"F- _fuck!_ Okay, quit it! _Please!_ "

"Do I win?"

"Y-yeah, _yeah_!"

Beth sat up, looking ridiculously pleased with herself, and pulled Mason to her feet. Mason tried to arrange her expression into something more dangerous but Beth wasn't buying it.

"Don't you dare tell anyone, you little shit," Mason said.

"Or what?" Beth said and innocently batted her eyelashes.

Mason rolled her eyes. "Look, I highly doubt you're gonna run into any ticklish walkers out there so let's go again, okay? No cheating this time."

"Yes, drill sergeant."

They worked until noon. Mason did her best trying to actualize different scenarios, but it was difficult when she was the only one acting as the walker. As they headed back to C for lunch, she wondered if maybe she could ask someone else to help. But the notion disappeared as soon as they stepped into the commons room.

Glenn, Hershel and Daryl were hovered over a table, dividing up the weapons. Carol stood nearby, offering suggestions on the best places to hide some of them for when the need arose. Merle slouched a ways off, sharpening his knife-hand. Maggie was sorting through their medical supplies at a different table, studiously ignoring him.

She looked up as Beth and Mason walked in. The smile she gave them didn't reach her eyes and Mason felt as though she'd just been thrown into a cold ocean after a day in the sun. This was reality. Not that room alone with Beth.

"Hey, you guys. Comin' back for some lunch?"

Mason glanced from her to Beth in surprise. Beth just nodded and said, "What's on the menu?"

"There's some ramen made up, and the last of the pecans. I saved 'em for when you two got back."

While they divvied out their food, Mason whispered, "Does Maggie know what we're doing?"

"I didn't tell her exactly," Beth replied. "I just told her to cover for us."

"So what…" Mason trailed off, unable to finish her question. What did Maggie think they were doing, off on their own together? She blushed and sat at an empty table.

"It'd be nice if Rick got back with some salt," Beth said, making a face at the bland noodles.

"I just hope they find more weapons," Mason muttered. The previous night, after dinner, Rick had announced that he was going on a run to find guns. Carl and Michonne had gone with him. Mason couldn't help doubting that they'd have any luck but she didn't voice this opinion.

The baby started crying right as they were finishing their lunch. Maggie stood up but Beth shook her head.

"I'll get her."

Reluctantly Mason followed her into the cell block. She leaned against the wall and tried not to make a face at the baby's wails. Beth scooped the kid out of the box she slept in and started rocking her, humming soothingly under her breath, and after a moment the kid quieted.

Mason raised an eyebrow. "Is she not hungry? Or, you know, whatever?"

"She just wanted a little company." Beth smiled. "Why don't you come and say hello?"

"Uh…no, I'm okay-"

"C'mon. Don't tell me this tiny human scares you."

Mason narrowed her eyes and marched up the stairs without a word. She stopped in front of Beth, looked directly at the kid and said, "Greetings, tiny human. There, happy?"

Beth shook her head. "I know you're not a baby person but she's a part of the family now. Just think of her like that."

"I know she is. I just…"

"How about you try holdin' her."

" _Holding her_? Oh, no, I don't think that's… What if I drop her? Pretty sure Rick would drop me."

"I won't let you drop her. I trust you. Do you trust me?"

Mason prickled with anxiety, but Beth's eyes were certain. Swallowing her nerves, she nodded. "Alright, give her here."

"Okay, hold your arms out like this… Yeah, there you go… Make sure you support her head."

As Beth handed the baby over, her little hands clutched at Mason's shirt, stronger than Mason expected. Her blue eyes were wide with curiosity. After a while Mason started to fidget, unsure of what to do.

Beth coughed, not-so-subtly hiding a laugh, and said, "Go ahead and talk to her."

"About w _hat_?"

"Anythin' you want. She doesn't judge."

"Um," Mason said. "Okay. Hello…tiny person who can't understand a word I say… How's it hanging? How do you like your sleeping box? I actually found that for you, I don't know if you know that… Um, sorry there's not, like, a mobile or anything. I think I was pretty fond of those when I was your size… There just, you know, hasn't been much opportunity to look for anything that doesn't kill and/or maim people. Maybe your daddy will find something fun for you today…"

As Mason rambled on, Little Asskicker clenched and unclenched her hands in Mason's shirt. She kept expecting the baby to start wailing at any moment but she stayed silent.

"…and once we take care of all this bullshit with the Governor you can go outside and see how pretty it is. You know, Georgia's actually really beautiful. I never thought-"

"Hey." Beth nudged her and pointed to the baby, whose eyelids were drooping shut.

Mason blinked, surprised. "Oh. Guess I'm less interesting than I thought."

Beth smiled and reached for Little Asskicker. "I'll put her down, and then we can get back to work."

Mason ignored the amusement in her expression and went to wait at the bottom of the steps. She could hear Glenn and Merle arguing in the commons room, at least until Hershel told them to shut up. She sighed.

"What's wrong?" Beth asked, coming down the steps.

Mason forced a smile. "Nothing." _Everything._ "C'mon."

They took great pains to sneak through the other side of the tombs, avoiding the commons room altogether. In the back of her mind Mason thought it probably would've been easier just to plead their case to the group- Beth needed to know how to defend herself, and they could've convinced them of that. But that would've been it. That would've solidified more than anything the gravity of their situation. The impossibility of it. Really the only thing worse would be outfitting Little Asskicker with an AK.

She snorted at the absurdity of the image. Beth looked at her curiously.

"What's funny?"

Mason shook her head. "Nothing."

"You know, I know how to deal with walkers one-on-one now. Maybe you could teach me how to fight actual people?"

Mason faltered in her tracks. "You shoot them," she said. "That's how you fight people."

"But what if I don't have a gun? Or I run out of bullets? You can't just prepare me for the ideal situation. Sooner or later I'm fightin', and I know you know I'm right."

Before Mason could respond, a walker turned the corner and shambled toward them. Beth knocked it to the ground and drove the heel of her boot into its head. Then she looked expectantly at Mason.

"You promised you'd teach me."

Mason sighed. "Yes, I did. C'mon, we're almost to D."

When they got back to their training block, Mason took up a position a few paces away from Beth.

"Okay, look. When it comes to walkers, you pretty much know what to expect. They're slower than us, they're clumsier, and they're going for the bite," she said. "People are different. Never assume that you know what they're going to do, because half the time you won't. And don't assume that fighting someone is going to turn out like in the movies, because it never will. It will never be clean, it will never be easy, and you will never win if you let your guard down."

Beth nodded seriously. Her eyes punched a hole in Mason's chest. She swallowed around the lump in her throat and went on.

"I've been in a few fights, most of them after the shit hit the fan. I won because I knew a few tricks, and because I used what was around me. Always be aware of that. Like if I were to attack you now, what could you use as a weapon against me?"

Beth looked around quickly. There wasn't much, but her eyes landed on a pile of torn clothing a few feet away.

"Those," she said. "I could pull 'em tight and strangle you." She blanched immediately at her answer but Mason nodded encouragingly.

"No, that's good. Now, if you're somewhere where there aren't many options or you don't have time to reach a weapon, there are a couple of tricks I can teach you. The first one I'll show you is how to take someone's gun, and it's pretty badass…"

~m~

They trained late into the afternoon. Beth was a quick and determined learner, never giving up until she'd perfected a technique. By the time Mason called it quits they were both covered in sweat, and there was a new formidable gleam in Beth's eyes.

"What did you say that last move was?" she asked as they retraced their steps through the tombs.

"Krav Maga," Mason answered. "I'm not an expert by any means but quite a few of the moves I showed you originate from it. It's a pretty kickass fighting style."

"Where'd you learn it?"

"Gina and I taught each other. We couldn't afford the classes so we bought a book and used each other as guinea pigs."

Beth frowned but said nothing more.

When they walked into the commons room, Mason was relieved to see that Rick, Carl and Michonne had made it back. They were gathered around the table that held all their weapons, except now there was more than double what there had been before.

Mason grinned. "Holy shit. Nice shopping." Then she noticed the blood on Rick's shoulder, the tear in his shirt, and she was instantly alarmed. "What happened?"

"Ran into an old friend," Rick replied.

Mason frowned, trying to read his tone. It didn't sound as if they'd run into the Governor or one of his lackeys, but Rick refused to elaborate either way.

Michonne elbowed Carl. "Let's go give your sister her present."

For one wild moment Mason thought they really were giving the baby a gun, but then she noticed the box on the other side of the table, a faded image of a crib printed on the side. Carl grinned at Michonne, a genuine expression of comradery, while Rick watched with thoughtful eyes.

"Well, now, ya'll got your weapons," Merle said as Michonne and Carl carried the box away. "Look pretty pleased about it, too. I hope you know this is the first step to you marchin' your sorry asses right into an early grave."

Mason ground her teeth. "I don't see you coming up with any brilliant ideas."

"Wrong, little missy. I got brilliant ideas but none of ya'll want to listen."

"We're not leaving," Glenn growled.

Merle didn't seem perturbed by the hate dripping from his tone. He shrugged and said, "If you want to live, that's the only way. But far be it from me to stand in your way. There ain't no cure for stupidity."

"I'm sure you know that all too well," Mason muttered. Merle glared at her.

"Man, will ya'll shut the hell up?" Daryl said. "You can fight later when this Governor's in the ground."

"Daryl's right," Rick said. "We need to figure out what the plan is. We have the weapons now, but we don't have the numbers. We're gonna need to play this one carefully."

Everyone but Merle sat down at the table. He leaned against the wall nearby, looking mutinous but staying quiet. Once Michonne and Carl had finished putting the crib together they joined in as well, but by the end of the meeting they had done nothing but gone around in circles. No one could think of any new solutions.

Eventually, Rick sighed. "Let's eat. We'll pick up again tomorrow. For now let's all try and get some rest."

Discouraged, Mason got to her feet and headed for the cell block. She hadn't eaten since lunch but her stomach felt heavy. Reaching for her iPod, she sprawled out on her bunk and turned the volume up high.

A little while later, a shadow stepped into view. She looked up, expecting Beth, and blinked in surprise when she saw Daryl watching her. She sat up and took off her headphones.

"What's up?"

He motioned in the direction of the commons room. "You gonna eat?"

"Oh, um…maybe later. I don't know if I could manage it right this second."

Daryl nodded, chewing the inside of his lip. Mason cocked an eyebrow.

"That what you came here for? To make sure I eat?"

He was silent for another moment before he said, "Carol told me you left."

Mason swallowed. "Oh." She cringed, waiting for the anger, the accusation, but it never came. Instead Daryl glanced shyly at his feet and then back at her.

"I just want you to know I'm glad you changed your mind," he said.

"Oh." Heat colored her cheeks but she ignored it. Smiling, she said, "I'm glad you did, too."

Daryl nodded again, looking more fidgety than she'd seen him look before, then turned away.

"Eat," he said and disappeared.

~m~

"Mason. Mason, wake up."

"Wha…Beth?"

"Yes! Now hurry and wake up!"

Mason sat up in her bunk, heart pounding, adrenaline prickling in her stomach. "What's the matter?" Her hand reached automatically for her fire iron but Beth shook her head.

"Shh!" she hissed. "Nothing's wrong, just come with me. And bring your iPod."

"Are you for real right now? It's the middle of the night!"

"Which is why you need to keep quiet."

Stifling a growl, Mason hauled herself out of bed, grabbed her iPod and fire iron and followed Beth out of the cell. It was only then that she noticed that Beth was already outfitted with shoes, flashlight and knife.

"Where have you been? And where are we going?" she whispered. Beth was leading her to the door opposite the commons room, where they'd snuck through earlier, but she couldn't think of a reason why. At least not one good enough to justify startling her out of sleep.

"You'll see. Just keep quiet."

Mason snapped into alertness as they navigated the tombs, ready in case there were any walkers out on an adventure of their own. But they met none, and Beth slowed as they came to a door not far from the infirmary.

"You gonna tell me what this is yet?" Mason asked.

In the dim light of the flashlight, Beth's eyes sparkled. "Nope."

Before Mason could protest, she opened the mysterious door and stepped inside. Mason hurried after and grabbed Beth's arm.

"Hey! Are you crazy?" she said. "There could be walkers in here, or rabid animals or booby traps or…fucking _black holes_. You can't just-"

"Mason, _relax_ ," Beth said. "I already cleared this room. Don't worry, there were only a couple of walkers and I took care of 'em. This door's the only way in or out. And I didn't see any animals or anythin'. Guess you could be right about the black holes, though."

Mason stared in astonishment. "You…cleared it? By yourself?"

Beth narrowed her eyes. "Yeah. I did. You don't have to sound so surprised about it."

"No, that's not… What I meant was that that was a really stupid and dangerous thing to do, and it has absolutely nothing to do with you. There could've been twenty walkers in here. That's more than anyone can handle on their own."

Beth glared and said nothing. Mason shook her head.

"Beth, I don't care what the situation is. I don't want you to put yourself in danger. Do you understand?"

"Well, I don't want you puttin' yourself in danger either but you do it anyway. From now on, why don't we just agree to do stupid, dangerous things together?"

Mason stood there for a moment, trying to come up with an argument, but could think of none. In the end she sighed and said, "You're a brat."

"You're pretty rude for someone who's about to get a really cool surprise."

Mason felt an inexplicable flutter in her stomach. "A surprise?" she said.

Beth nodded. "So if you'll let me get to it?"

"Definitely a brat."

Beth closed the door and led her deeper into the room, from the looks of which must have been used for storage. Boxes and mesh shelving, all of it covered in a thick layer of dust, made up a labyrinthine passage to the center of the room, where a tower of boxes reached toward the ceiling.

"Is…is that the surprise?"

"Oh my lord… _no_. I stacked those so I could get to that." Beth pointed to the square of mesh in the ceiling tile. "The surprise is up above."

"Um…the air duct?"

"Will you stop guessin'?"

"Will you stop being so mysterious?"

Beth grinned. "You don't do too well with surprises, do you?"

"Not really, no. At my tenth birthday party I punched my cousin in the face when he jumped out and yelled 'surprise'."

"Really?"

"No. I actually did punch him a few years later, though. Guy was a real dick."

Beth led the way up the box tower, scaling it with ease. When she reached the top she pried the mesh square from the ceiling and handed it to Mason.

"When you get up here," she said, "just climb straight up." Then she pulled herself into the air duct, leaving Mason alone in the dark.

Bemused, she stashed the mesh between two boxes and followed. Fresh air kissed her face as she pulled herself in, and when she looked up a lock of moonlight illuminated a squat metal tunnel directly above.

Breathless with excitement, Mason scrambled up the tunnel. It was a tight squeeze but it allowed her to shimmy through quickly, and then in a blink she was outside. The night air greeted her sweetly, high enough off the ground that the constant whiff of death was virtually absent. Beth stood a few feet away, smiling widely, outlined in moonlight. Behind her, a single blanket had been laid out on the roof.

The fluttering started up again. Mason coughed self-consciously.

"Well?" Beth said. "Do you like your surprise?"

"I love it," Mason replied, smiling despite her nerves. "I can't believe you found a way out here."

"I snuck out as soon as everyone was asleep. I wanted to try. I know how much you like bein' outside at night."

Mason blinked. She'd never told Beth that.

Beth grinned at her startled expression. "It's so cute how you're not even aware of how transparent you are."

Mason's cheeks flamed instantly. Ducking her head, she growled, "I'm not transparent. I'm an enigma." _And I'm definitely not cute._

" _Right_. Of course you are."

"I am! Scholars have actually traveled millions of miles just to study my thoughts and none of them ever got close. Their brains melted under the weight of my awesome mystery."

Beth giggled. "Well, maybe you'll let a humble choir girl have a shot?"

"I suppose I'll allow it."

Beth ushered Mason over to the blanket, laying down next to her like it was nothing in the world, like it didn't set Mason's heart to breakneck speed, like it didn't make the air in her lungs feel electric. Willing her hands not to shake, Mason laid her headphones in the space between them and turned the music up so that they both could hear.

They laid in companionable silence for a while, listening as Ellie Goulding melted into Lykke Li then into Lana Del Rey. Every once in a while, when she thought Beth wasn't looking, Mason glanced over to catch her reaction to a certain lyric or a turn of melody.

When Beth spoke, her voice sounded dreamy. "We should do this every night," she said.

"Mmm…What about when it rains?"

"I like the rain. We couldn't bring your iPod but I could sing."

Mason smiled at the thought. "That sounds nice."

"I'll learn your favorite songs and sing 'em right into your ear."

For a second, it was perfectly clear. Beth's honey voice, her warm breath brushing her ear, her neck… Blushing profusely, Mason cleared her throat and said, "I'll sing your favorites right back to you."

"Do you sing?"

"All the time."

Beth's eyes glimmered. Suddenly afraid that she would ask her to sing something, Mason scrambled to change the subject.

"What's your favorite color?"

"What?"

"Well I know we're, like, besties now or whatever but we really don't know all that much about each other."

Amused, Beth said, "And you think knowin' my favorite color will unravel all my mysteries?"

Mason grinned. "Maybe you'll let a humble Aquarius find out?"

"Alright. Yellow. What's yours?"

"Black. Like my soul. Now you ask me one. Yeah, we're ping-ponging, that's how this works."

"Okay, um… Why do you like bein' out at night?"

Mason shrugged. "I don't know. It makes me feel safe. Back when we lived in Kansas, me and Gina used to sneak out at night all the time. Sometimes we'd walk around the neighborhood, or she'd take me to this creek behind the park. She used to track the cycles of the moon like it was a fucking religion because she was fascinated by astrology and witchcraft… She used to make up these stories-"

Abruptly Mason paused, flushing with embarrassment. "Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean to start rambling."

But Beth shook her head. "You can tell me about her. I know she meant a lot to you." Her tone was gentle but her eyes were sad, and Mason felt all the old grief rekindled in her chest.

"What were the stories she told you?" Beth prompted.

"They weren't always _nice_ stories," Mason said. "Gina loved wolves. They were her favorite animals since she was a kid and she always came up with these crazy stories about wolves rising up to hunt the humans, ridding the world of them. Nature taking charge again, you know? She believed that people were what was wrong with the world."

For the barest heartbeat, Mason was back in that forest, drowning in rain, in blood, in screams she couldn't get to in time. One dark shock of anguish and then she was resurfacing again, in a life separated from that forest by moonlight and the color of Beth's eyes.

"After all this," she rasped. "After seeing what people can do? I know she was right."

Pain flickered in Beth's expression. She reached out and brushed her fingers across Mason's cheek, to wipe away what Mason refused to believe was a tear. Against her better judgment, Mason sighed and leaned into Beth's hand.

They stayed like that for a moment that was not a moment, a moment that was a lifetime in disguise, and in it Mason found herself worlds away from everything. Nothing existed but her and Beth, the rooftop and the sky. Nothing mattered but Beth's fingertips, the intimate thrum of her pulse on Mason's face, like a communication through skin.

Finally Beth said, "Not everyone."

Mason met her gaze, iron strong, blue as two forget-me-nots, and something in her heart broke open.

"No," she murmured. "Not everyone."

Gently she reached out and touched Beth's hand, but her fingers stilled as her pinkie brushed a line of raised skin on her wrist. She heard the breath catch in Beth's throat, felt a tendon in her forearm twitch as she stiffened. Abruptly she leaned away, and the place where her hand had been felt stark and naked.

Mason fixed her gaze on Beth's, for once feeling neither shame nor shyness but instead a deep calm. Without a word, she held out her hand, palm open like an offering. Beth sat quietly, clearly reluctant, her eyes flickering with memories like minnows in a stream. Just when Mason thought she would remain resistant, Beth reached out and closed the distance.

Slowly, she turned over Beth's arm, exposing her wrist to the moonlight and throwing its thin band of scar tissue into silvery relief.

Beth said nothing. The tension in her jawline was obvious, the way she glared off to the side in defiance. Mason let go of her hand. Beth continued looking anywhere but her until Mason began lifting up her shirt.

"Wh-what are you doin'?" she gasped.

She fell silent immediately at the chaos of pale scars criss-crossing Mason's side.

"I did most of them before all of this started," Mason said. "After that there just wasn't time to waste on anything but survival, which was ironic considering most of the time I just fantasized about ways to die."

Mason shook her head. "I thought these meant that I wasn't strong. I thought they made me less than everyone else around me. But that's bullshit. Strength is not the absence of weakness. I'm still trying to come to terms with that."

Eyes shining with tears that never fell, Beth nodded. "Me, too."

Mason lowered her shirt and smiled. "No one ever knew about these except Gina. And now, you."

"I feel special."

Mason opened her mouth to answer, but the words faltered. There was a light in Beth's eyes, a softness in the set of her mouth, that set fire to the veins in Mason's body. Something had changed in the space between them, a tiny shift that crumbled every wall Mason had built. Something had changed in _her_ , she'd been careless, she had _let_ it. There was a new feeling in her chest, not unlike the grief from before, one she recognized and wished she didn't.

 _Fuck._

It took only a few seconds to become conscious of all of this. Beth was still waiting for her to speak. Mason cleared her throat. "You are."

Beth's answering smile was everything Mason knew she wanted.

Everything she knew would destroy her.

"So now you ask me a question," Beth said. "We're ping-pongin', right?"

"Right," Mason replied and smiled, surprised by her ability to do so even though inside the panic was hurrying to fill her up all over again.

She held herself together for the night, asked questions and laughed, but by the time the stars disappeared her composure had gone with them, leaving behind only one certainty.

She had fucked up. In spite of every deterrent measure, in spite of every wall she'd built out of blood and rain and the sound of screams, she'd let herself fall in love again. There was no more point in denying it when she felt it so strongly.

She was in love with Beth.

There was no running from it. No fighting it.

She

was in love

with Beth.

And suddenly everything was terrifying again.


	10. Happy Pills

Hey, guys. Been a while but I'm excited to get back on the horse! It's a short chapter this time, but hopefully not completely horrible. The title song is "Happy Pills" by Weathers. Give it a listen if you're so inclined, it's pretty cool.

10\. Happy Pills

" _I take my pills and I'm happy all the time,_

 _I'm happy all the time, I'm happy all the time,_

 _I love my girl but she ain't worth the price,_

 _she ain't worth the price, no, she ain't worth the price._ "

There were two perfectly valid reasons she had for sitting with Merle in this cell, drinking his liquor.

One: Daryl was gone. He, Rick and Hershel had gone to meet the Governor to talk things over- a temporary truce brokered by that Andrea woman. Over the past few days Daryl had obligingly, if unknowingly, distracted her from her most recent revelation that: she was in love with Beth.

It was because of this revelation that she desperately needed a drink. Which was reason number two.

"That's a pretty face you're pullin' there, darlin'. What, you ain't a whiskey drinker?"

Mason banished the pinch from between her eyebrows. "I'm a drinker of anything that gets me drunk. But it ain't my favorite."

Merle snorted. "You're just here for my sparkling personality."

"Believe me, I'd much rather be sitting with your brother than with you."

" _Oh_." Merle's brow quirked in a way that had Mason immediately regretting her answer. "It's like that, huh?"

"No."

"Baby brother's got a sweet little piece to pad after him?"

" _No_."

"Don't try and tell me all this time you two spend together is for pickin' daisies. I see how he looks at you."

Her jaw dropped. "He looks at me like a _friend_. We're _friends_ , you mouth-breather. God, you think anyone showing the slightest bit of attention to anyone else means they're fucking. Oh, hey! I'm looking at this whiskey bottle right now, we must be doinking on the nightly!"

"I'd like to see that."

"Yeah, I bet you would. Does it get tiresome, your sexually dependent masculinity?"

Merle grinned and swiped the bottle. "Sometimes."

"That wasn't a compliment."

Merle narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "So what is it that brought you to my humble domain, if it has nothing to do with my brother? I know you have your own booze, so it ain't that."

Mason flushed as she realized that there was indeed a third reason, and it was the most cowardly of them all.

"I needed a place to hide out," she mumbled. "And after your little display out there I figured no one would come looking for you."

"Little display" as in Merle and Glenn had gotten into a fight and Beth had had to fire a gun to keep it from escalating.

Irritation twisted his mouth. "I ain't changed my mind. Better to strike now while the Governor's alone." He took a sip and then looked at her. "I know you know I'm right. You ain't the best at hiding what you think. You're like my brother that way."

Mason frowned, unnerved that her expressions were so easily accessible to a virtual stranger. If _he_ could read them, then…

She shook her head. "If you think it would be so easy to take out the Governor, why are you worried about Daryl?"

He gave her a wry look. "You ain't got any siblings, do ya?"

Her eyes turned stony. "No, but I don't need any to know what it's like to worry. I have people that I care about."

"Then worry's a bit of an understatement, ain't it?"

He handed the bottle back to her. She stared into its brown glass for a long time.

"Yes. It is."

They were silent for a while, but Mason was surprised to realize that it wasn't tense or awkward. Maybe it was the liquor warming her insides but she felt comfortable.

The comfort was short-lived, however. A familiar voice startled her out of it.

"Mason? What are you doin'?"

Mason didn't look at Beth. She looked just past Beth's shoulder. Because looking at Beth- at those wide eyes and soft lips- would be her undoing.

"I'm just…chilling," she said, wincing internally at the flimsiness of her voice.

"Can I talk to you?"

Stifling a groan, Mason followed Beth out of the cell to a corner where they were alone. Alone, and very, very close. Heat rose along her spine and the back of her neck. She hoped if it showed on her face that Beth would interpret it as guilt.

"What are you doin' with him?" Beth demanded.

"I told you. We're just chilling. Are we not allowed to chill anymore? Is that, like, a _law_ now?"

"You're drunk."

The change in Beth's tone, so abrupt… She couldn't help it. She had to look.

It was a strange mixture of relief and despair to see that her eyes were just as heartbreaking as ever. The emotion in them was hard to decipher, but it was easy enough to tell that Beth was hurt.

"So what if I am? I think I'm entitled to a drink now and then."

" _Now_ is not the time," Beth said. She sounded strikingly like her dad. "You shouldn't be gettin' drunk, and you definitely shouldn't be gettin' drunk with _him_."

"Why not? He's not doing anything."

"Because he isn't safe. Anyone with half a brain could see that. Besides, you promised you were gonna train me. What happened to that? After the other night, I thought…"

She trailed off but her eyes never left Mason's face. Too penetrating. Too blue.

Finally, she said, "I thought you cared about me."

Mason stiffened. Her cheeks burned but it wasn't from guilt. "What, you think that I don't care about you?"

Beth had the decency to look flustered, but the spark in her eyes never dimmed. "That's not what I meant to say. I just… we're all on edge and I'd feel much better if you weren't off doin' shots with that Neanderthal."

There were a million things she wanted to say but she swallowed them all. When she thought she could speak without shouting, she growled, "Stop worrying about me. I can take care of myself, and I'm gonna have a damn drink."

~m~

Merle grinned wolfishly when she returned and she really didn't want to find out why. She motioned to the bottle instead, hoping if she didn't ask he wouldn't answer. "Give me that."

He watched her take a long pull, then said, "So I've puzzled out why you came seeking my hearth. Pretty obvious when I think about it."

"If I just tell you you're right, no matter what it is, will you shut up?"

"And miss a chance to impart my infinite wisdom? No, no, no, sweetheart. I haven't been this entertained since cable television."

"Your life must be more boring than you let on."

Merle ignored this. "What I don't understand is why you would risk your princess's wrath slummin' it with me."

"There weren't any alternatives aside from throwing myself to the walkers, which is starting to look better and better the more you talk."

"You really oughta work on that attitude of yours. I'm tryin' to help."

Mason laughed harshly. "Oh, yeah, you're just a well of charity."

"Well maybe if you'd explain the problem…"

"I'm not having a heart-to-heart with you."

"Why not? I bet you've had plenty with my baby brother."

Mason didn't reply, mostly because she didn't want to admit that it was true. She didn't think she could stand seeing the satisfaction on his face without punching him in the gut. But not answering was apparently answer enough, as his smile turned smug.

"He always was the soft one. I bet he never told you about the time he rescued a cat from a pack of wild dogs."

She didn't want to take the bait but Merle continued anyway.

"A fuckin' _cat_. Little shit was mean as hell but my brother took care of it anyway. He ran right into that pack of dogs and fought 'em off with his bare hands. Had to stitch him up in the bathroom."

Mason smiled a bit.

"That's the kind of shit my brother's always pullin'. Even if it's stupid and pointless. He saved a couple of strangers and their baby on the way back here."

"And you think that's pointless?"

Merle paused to eye her darkly. "This new world," he said. "It demands a different breed of people. If you care, then eventually you die."

Cold wound itself around Mason's heart. This was what she'd always told herself, yet coming from someone else- from _Merle_ no less- was a kick in the gut. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she took another swig.

Finally she murmured, "What happened to the cat?"

"Ran off. Probably got its fool ass eaten by another pack of dogs."

Mason rolled her eyes. "I bet that gets tedious, too, huh? Acting tough?"

"Honey, I don't _act_ tough, I _am_ tough. Because I need to be. We can't all run and hide when the love of our life starts spewin' venom."

"She's not-"

But Mason cut herself off. She didn't want to say those words, _the love of my life,_ but she didn't want to _not_ say them. Which would be worse? That she was wrong or that she was right?

 _You haven't even known her that long,_ she thought.

So what? She hadn't known Gina long before she knew she was in love with her. And Gina was gone, so what was the problem?

The problem was Gina was gone.

"Alright, you want to help? Then tell me how. How can I make it when there are so many…so many people I don't want to lose? I _can't_ lose. Not…again."

She didn't mean to say it, didn't mean to say _anything_ , and least of all to Merle, but she was drunk and the words would not be contained. She stared into the bottle, vaguely surprised by how much they'd drunk but mostly horrified by her own lack of inhibition.

It startled her when Merle pried the bottle away, though he did it with unexpected gentleness. She glanced at him, prepared for some snarky comment about her stupidity, her weakness. Because that's what it was. In spite of all the rules she'd laid down for herself after Gina, in spite of knowing how easily, how _eagerly,_ the new world took the things you loved most…

She was a fucking idiot.

But when he spoke there was no scorn. Only tired understanding. "I honestly don't know, sweetheart. I been tryin' to figure that out myself."

Mason sighed. "Well, awesome."

"Don't know what else you were expecting from a backwoods mutant like me."

"What about your infinite wisdom?"

"Part of my façade, sunshine."

They smiled with companionable cynicism and passed the bottle back and forth several times. When it was nearly gone, Merle said, "So who was it?"

Mason stiffened. "My…my girlfriend," she whispered. "I couldn't save her. She was the most important person in my life, and… It had to be her."

"Of course it did," Merle said. "Those important ones are always at the top of the list. Life has a funny sense of humor."

Mason thought of Rick's face when it was Maggie, not Lori, who walked out of the prison with his baby. The ruin in his eyes. How familiar it was.

"Don't it, though?" she said.

"That why you're givin' your new princess the cold shoulder?"

"I'm not giving her the cold shoulder, I'm trying to figure my shit out."

"You're a pussy is what you're sayin'."

Mason gaped at him. "Excuse me? You literally _just said_ if you care, you die."

Merle nodded. "And I stand by that. Ain't nothin' worse than makin' space for someone in your life, because when they're gone there's just nothin'."

"You're unbelievable. Fucking unbelievable. Just when I think there might be a part of you that's _actually human_ , you go right back to mutant. _Fuck you_."

"Don't you remember what I said?" Merle drained the bottle and tossed it onto his cot.

Mason shook her head, more out of frustration than anything else. "You're all over the goddam place."

"I'm drunk, what do you expect? Look, I ain't ever lost anyone I was particularly close to. There's been a few I'll admit it was a shame to see go, but…" He paused, and something in his eyes drew away from the world.

"But for a while there, I was sure my brother was dead. He had to be. I searched and searched and never found him, and it just made sense, you know? We grew up, and we only cared about each other. That's how it always was. It just made sense that he'd get taken from me."

Mason chewed the inside of her lip. "And how…did you deal with that?"

Merle snorted. "Did you think I just fell in with the Governor so we could paint each other's nails? It was the only way…"

He trailed off, his jaw shifting as he struggled with the emotion on his face. Mason pretended to be distracted by a string on the hem of her shirt.

"Look, sunshine," he finally continued, "there are people like me, and then there are the rest. The sentimental ones. The ones that save babies and kittens even though it's stupid and pointless. I told you if you care you die, but I also told you that you're like my brother. And my brother, when he cares about something, he's brave about it. Understand?"

It was becoming difficult to understand much in her hazy state, but this. This was crystal clear. Did she understand? Yes, of course she did. It was this understanding that made her heart thump too quickly, her lungs shrivel like rotten fruits.

She stared at Merle for a long time before she said, "Got anymore booze?"

~m~

When Rick, Daryl and Hershel returned, Mason was caught in the gray no-man's-land between drunk and hungover. She stood as still as possible next to Merle, quite a feat considering she couldn't get her eyes to focus. Merle, however, looked as sober as sober could be. The bastard.

"So I met this Governor," Rick says. A humorless smile played briefly at his lips. "Sat with him for quite a while."

"Just the two of you?" Merle asked and Rick nodded distantly.

Merle and Mason exchanged a glance before he whispered a quiet aside to Glenn.

"Shoulda gone when we had the chance, bro."

Glenn swallowed hard but he kept quiet. Maggie twined her fingers with his and glared daggers at Merle.

Unaware of this exchange, Rick continued, "He wants the prison. He wants us gone. Dead. He wants us dead."

Reflexively, Mason looked at Beth, all of her fears ripped open anew.

 _If you care, then eventually you die._

Dying on the inside or dying for real, it made little difference. She'd died once and been brought back to life, raised from the dead like a walker. Everything in her resisted the urge to bare herself like that again, to give so much of her vital self to someone else. But she didn't know if she had a choice in the matter.

Rick's eyes flickered back and forth between the faces of his group, the family that had taken her in. He said, "We're going to war."

No one said anything. The whole room was a tinderbox, waiting for a flame.

It was a graveyard waiting for corpses.

Beth's eyes flashed to Mason and she looked away, coward as always. She took in all the others- Glenn and Maggie, Carol and Hershel, Carl and Michonne. Daryl nodding to his brother, who barely nodded back. She recognized then the despair hidden so deep in him that he could hardly acknowledge it. It wasn't just his brother she had something in common with.

Eventually the group dispersed, subdued by the dissolution of their last hope. Mason stumbled for her cell, more than a little reluctant to share such tight quarters with Beth but unable to deny her need for sleep.

Rick reached her before she got there, grim-faced and furtive. It dawned on her then that he hadn't shared everything with the group.

"Come with me," he whispered, and though she groaned internally she followed.

He led her out to the courtyard, where Daryl and Hershel were already waiting. Her nerves buzzed with apprehension. Hershel's grave expression matched Rick's, but Daryl appeared to know as little about what was happening as she did.

"What's going on…?" she said slowly.

Rick hesitated, instinctively seeking Hershel's support. The old man nodded.

"When I talked with the Governor," Rick said, "he gave me a choice."

Mason swayed a little. "What kind of choice?"

"He said he didn't care about us. Or the prison. He said he'd leave us alone if I gave him something in return."

Daryl narrowed his eyes. "So what does he want?"

Rick looked down at the ground. Just slightly, his fingers were trembling.

"Michonne."


	11. Arsonist's Lullabye

NOTE: Hey, guys. Tonight's chapter is even shorter than the one before, but that's only because it was originally going to be a lot longer. Instead I split it in two, and because of that I expect I will have the next chapter out within the next few hours (which I'm excited about). Anyway, thanks to all of you who have been supporting this story, it means so much to me you guys! And before I forget, the title song, "Arsonist's Lullabye" by Hozier, is a perfect TWD song (and in fact is the song played in S6E12 Not Tomorrow Yet) so I think you'll recognize it. Anyway, enough rambling. Hope you like it.

11\. Arsonist's Lullabye

" _When I was a child, I heard voices._

 _Some would sing and some would scream._

 _You'll soon find you have few choices._

 _I learned the voices died with me._ "

~m~

"I think that's enough for today."

Without a word, Beth straightened out of her fighting stance. She avoided Mason's eyes, coolly belting her knife and brushing the hair from her face. Mason stayed where she was until Beth left and then slowly followed.

By the time she returned to the cell block, Beth had already sat down with Maggie to eat. She didn't invite Mason to join her. Mason ate alone in their cell, and that's where Rick found her.

She stiffened at the sight of him but said nothing, waiting instead for him to speak. His eyes were bloodshot, cupped by shadows.

But the silence stayed silent. He nodded his head, a wordless instruction to follow, and so she did.

Daryl and Hershel waited outside just like before. Mason looked to Daryl for comfort but his face was bleak.

"Have you decided?" Hershel asked.

Rick nodded. His haunted eyes riveted on something in the distance and he said, "It has to be today. It has to be quiet. Nobody else knows."

Mason's stomach pitched. She felt as though she'd stepped onto solid ground, only to have it dissolve beneath her feet.

Daryl chewed the inside of his lip, his eyes darting back and forth as though seeking some form of guidance. Eventually, he said, "You got a plan?"

"We tell her we need to talk. Away from the others."

Rick didn't continue any farther than that, and none of them needed him too. Hershel stared at the ground. Daryl shook his head.

"This ain't us, man."

"No. No, it isn't," Hershel said and left without another word.

Rick looked at Daryl. "We do this, we avoid a fight. No one else dies."

" _No_."

Both of them turned to Mason, whose voice had finally returned. She shook her head incredulously.

"We can't do this. We can't."

"Mason-"

" _No_ , Rick. Look, I…I know you had to think about it-"

"I did."

"Well, think again."

" _I did_."

The wildness was back in Rick's eyes and Mason couldn't look away. It was all over his face, how much this cost him.

"We can't do this," she said again, but this time it was weaker. "Michonne…she's a good person."

"Are you willing to sacrifice the rest of us to keep her alive?"

"That's…that's what we do for each other."

Rick swallowed hard and leaned toward her, his eyes full of ghosts. "Are you willing to sacrifice Beth for her?"

Mason flinched. Whatever other argument she might have made drowned in her fear.

She saw Gina in her mind, dragged off into the dark by savage men.

She saw Gina's face become Beth's and it was unendurable.

"No," she gasped, with barely enough breath to make a sound at all. And she hated herself, she _hated_ herself,but she said it again. "No."

Rick laid a steadying hand on her shoulder. He waited to speak until she looked up. "We have to do this. We have to try. You know that."

She didn't say anything else. She was too sick to speak.

"We need someone else," Rick continued eventually. He looked meaningfully at Daryl.

"I'll find him."

"No. I'll talk to him myself."

Rick walked away, leaving Mason with Daryl. After a moment, he touched her arm.

"Hey. You okay?"

She shook her head. He watched her for a long time and the world narrowed around them. It was just the two of them in their terrible knowledge.

~m~

Michonne was in the commons with Carl and Maggie, gathered around a table piled with wood planks and razor wire. Mason shoved her hands in her pockets to hide their shaking.

Carl looked up. "Hey, Mason. Wanna help with something?"

"What's up, kiddo?"

"Michonne had this idea, to make tire spikes and hide them in the yard. That way when the Governor comes back they won't make it very far."

Michonne nodded and said, "We don't have to make it easy for them." Then she offered Mason one of her rare smiles.

 _Are you willing to sacrifice the rest of us to keep her alive?_

Mason swallowed numbly. "That's a great idea."

She sat with the three of them, assembling tire spikes and trying not to scream. At some point Daryl joined them, sitting close to Mason as though the proximity could provide comfort. But every time she looked up her eyes were drawn to Michonne, and she knew it was the same for him.

Maggie and Carl drew the walkers to the path while Mason, Michonne and Daryl laid out the spikes. Each spark of sunlight refracted from Michonne's sword was a cut in Mason's chest. She bit her tongue to focus on a pain more physical.

It became nearly unbearable when she found herself side-by-side with Michonne, slashing their way through a knot of walkers. Iron and sword, like they'd been doing this from the beginning.

 _She's one of us!_ she wanted to cry. But then she would think of Beth, and the things the Governor has already done to her family, and it was the only thing that kept her from putting this cry to words.

When the spikes were laid, Mason returned to her cell. She hoped in vain for a peace that not even her iPod could provide. Song after song she shuffled through, only for each one to yield to the guilt. Her stomach churned so incessantly she was sure she was getting an ulcer.

A figure shadowed the doorway.

"Damn, sweetheart. Do you even remember how to smile?"

Clenching her jaw, Mason forced the bitterest smile she could manage and showed Merle her middle finger.

He grinned, but there was something off about it. "Officer Friendly filled me in on our little situation. Guess I'm to be ya'll's garbage man. Take out the trash."

Mason pretended to be absorbed with her iPod.

"Aw, c'mon, girl. You don't really think your man Rick's gonna pull this off, do you?"

She frowned. "He already decided. He has to."

Merle just raised an eyebrow. She looked back at her iPod.

"I hear you tried to kill yourself with that thing."

"Yeah, I tried, but the edges are just too damn dull. Didn't leave a mark on my wrists."

Merle smirked. "So it was after that when you decided to play them walkers a little tune? How sweet."

Mason sighed. "Why are you asking me about this?"

"I'm just curious, is all. Wonderin' what made you so savage."

"I'm not savage."

"Savage enough to let the Governor take one of your own."

 _We do this, we avoid a fight. No one else dies._

"Shut up," Mason said. She didn't know if she was talking to Merle or her own thoughts or both.

"What's wrong, sunshine? Did I strike a nerve?"

"No, but you sure know how to get on my last one."

"I guess I just never took you for the cold-blooded type, that's all."

"You don't even know me. I could be colder than a Midwestern winter for all you know."

Merle nodded thoughtfully. "Suppose that's true," he said. "Then again I suppose it's also true that I am an exceptional judge of character."

"Strange, since you don't have any."

The look that crossed Merle's face then… Mason almost felt bad. But after that he left her be, and she didn't know which it was worse to be trapped with: his harassment, or her mind's.

~m~

It was a few hours later and Mason was drifting into a doze when Rick and Daryl found her. The expressions on their faces woke her immediately.

She reached for her iron. "What's wrong?"

"We can't find Merle," Rick said.

Seeing her bemused look, Daryl added, "We think he took Michonne."

Mason's stomach clenched. "But I thought…"

Rick met her gaze for the first time since telling her about the ultimatum. "No," he said. "I changed my mind."

Her breath of relief caught in her throat. He'd changed his mind, but it was too late.

"Help us look," Daryl said. "We'll find 'em."

But that fragile hope disintegrated when they searched the generator room, and found the tracks that Merle and Michonne had left behind.

"He took her here," Daryl said.

"Goddammit," Rick hissed and strode for the exit. "I'm going after them."

"You can't track for shit."

"Well, then both of us."

"All of us," Mason added.

Daryl shook his head. "Nah. Just me. You two need to stay here and get ready for what's comin'. You're family, too." He left without another word.

"Do you think he'll find them?" Mason murmured. She knew it was a stupid question but keeping it in felt like swallowing acid.

"I don't know," Rick replied, like she knew he would. "But we need to talk to the others. Tell them what's happened, get them ready like Daryl said."

Mason nodded and followed him out of the room.

"Rick," she said after a moment. "I know…I know you had to. You've kept this group safe for so long and none of us know the position you're in. You had to think about it."

Rick nodded, his jaw working like he was chewing on his words. Finally he said, "I decided to tell you because of what you told me that day. In the boiler room. I haven't lost myself. I won't."

"You won't," Mason agreed firmly.

~m~

The group gathered in the courtyard, all of them apprehensive and puzzled. Beth cast a quizzical glance at Mason from across the picnic table where they sat. Mason just nodded in Rick's direction.

It took a moment for Rick to begin. Mason knew he was looking for the right words, summoning up the courage to say them, and her heart fluttered in sympathy.

After a glance at Mason, who nodded encouragingly, he said, "When I met with the Governor, he offered me a deal. He said he would leave us alone, if I gave him Michonne. And I was gonna do that, to keep us safe… But I changed my mind. And now Merle took Michonne to fulfill the deal and Daryl went after him and I don't know if it's too late."

Silence hung over the group, all of them looking at each other with shock in their eyes, with horror. Hershel took Beth's hand. Glenn wrapped an arm around Maggie's waist.

"I was wrong not to tell you," Rick continued. "I'm sorry. What I said last year, that first night after the farm? It can't be like that. It can't. What we do, what we're _willing_ to do, who we _are_ \- it's not my call. It can't be. I couldn't sacrifice one of us for the greater good because we _are_ the greater good. We're the reason we're still here, not me.

"This is life and death. How you live. How you die. It isn't up to me. I'm not your governor. _We_ choose to go. _We_ choose to stay. We stick together and we vote. We can stay and we can fight, or we can go."

Rick looked around at all of their faces before walking away.

Everyone stared after him, and then at each other. Hershel and Mason exchanged a long, loaded look before Hershel spoke.

"So? What is it gonna be?"

"We can't leave," Maggie said. "This is our home."

"No, we can't," Glenn agreed.

"We can't fight," Carol said. "There aren't nearly enough of us. We'll be slaughtered."

"We can find a way," Mason said. "There has to be a way."

Beth eyed her sharply. Her eyes glittered. Blue fire. Her cheeks were flushed pink with exhilaration. Mason couldn't look away and didn't want to.

Beth squared her shoulders and stood up.

"I know a way."

~m~

" _All you have is your fire_

 _and the place you need to reach._

 _Don't you ever tame your demons_

 _but always keep 'em on a leash._ "


	12. Don't Make Me Wait

Alright, guys, here's the chapter. The title song is "Don't Make Me Wait" by This World Fair (which some of you may recognize from Disturbia). It's kind of a cheesy song but I think it fits perfectly with this chapter. I really, really hope you like this one, guys, so let me know if you do, and make sure to keep your eye out for the next chapter which I hope to be coming out with soon!

12\. Don't Make Me Wait

" _Angel eyes why do you look back?_

 _And all this time how did you know that_

 _I'd be here, I'd be here, I'd be here_

 _in this world all alone?_ "

Mason ignored everything- the heat crawling up her spine, the snarling behind her, the tickle of sweat running down her neck. She ignored everything but the sound of cautious approach through the tombs.

Daryl stood beside her, gun in hand, one hand paused near the door behind them. The footsteps drew closer, and the whispers of those who could not keep quiet in the eerie darkness. Mason steadied her grip on her own gun, heart pounding.

Suddenly, an alarm rent the quiet. Emergency lights flashed red. Mason nodded at Daryl and leapt into action, darting around the corner and tossing an improvised smoke bomb at the intruders. Behind her, Daryl kicked open the door and quickly got out of the way, as walkers began streaming out.

The intruders erupted in a panic, screaming and fleeing back the way they'd come. The walkers trailed after them. Mason and Daryl disappeared down a side hallway, which joined up again with the passage taken by the Governor's soldiers. At the sight of the two of them, most of them bolted in the opposite direction but a few raised their weapons. Mason and Daryl took them down without hesitation.

They chased them through the tombs and into the cell block, shooting at their feet to keep them moving in the right direction. At one point one of men tried to hide in a corner, but Mason sent a bullet in his direction.

" _Get the fuck out of my home_."

She'd never seen a man scurry away so quickly.

Out in the yard, Maggie and Glenn herded the intruders from their spot on the catwalk, ducking behind pallets when the intruders got feisty. Daryl and Mason halted at the fence, watching as the Governor and his people loaded back into their cars and wheeled away.

"Holy shit," Mason panted. She felt the first timid creeping of hope in her chest but didn't dare give into it. Not yet.

"We did it?" Maggie hollered.

"We did it," Glenn replied.

Rick, Carol and Michonne emerged from the prison, where they had stationed themselves at strategic intervals to nudge the intruders out the door. At the sight of Michonne, the hope in Mason's chest swelled. She had come back yesterday, alone, and told everyone how Merle had let her go. Daryl had returned a few hours later. Also alone.

She looked at him now, trying not to let the pity show on her face. His brother was dead, murdered while trying to take out the Governor and his men. Despite being an asshole, she couldn't help feeling a stab of sorrow at the loss. At who he could've been.

"Good work," Rick said.

"Beth's a genius," Mason said, grinning proudly.

Glenn and Maggie joined them, looking troubled.

"We should go after them," Glenn said.

Maggie shook her head. "No."

"We need to finish this," Daryl said.

"We barely made it back the last time."

"But this time they're on the run, they're rattled," Mason said.

Rick nodded. "We should finish this while we have the chance."

Though Maggie still looked uncertain, everyone else seemed to be in agreement. They rushed back to the cell block to gather weapons and check on the others.

A knot unraveled in Mason's stomach at the sight of Beth, perfectly unscathed. As she handed Little Asskicker to Rick, her eyes darted up to meet Mason's. Something else unraveled inside of her, and her knees weakened.

"Hey."

Mason jumped and took the gun that Daryl offered her. She didn't miss it when Beth frowned.

"What are you doin'?" she asked.

"We're gonna finish this," Mason replied.

"You're followin' them?"

"We have to," Daryl said. "We can't have loose ends."

Beth's forehead was pinched in a way that had become dearly familiar. With a soft smile, Mason took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"Don't worry," she said. "I'm coming back."

~m~

It was raining, the first time in nearly a month. Mason had her iPod tucked in a plastic bag to keep it dry, the music so low that it was merely a background melody to the drizzle.

Since coming home with the Woodbury survivors, her time had been filled running around, setting them up in D block and clearing the field of walkers. Now, to be afforded this moment of peace, she didn't know what to do with it. The calm was dizzying.

A twig cracked behind her. She spun around, heart pounding with adrenaline. At the sight of Beth, however, it continued to pound for a whole other reason.

"Hey," she said.

"Hey."

Beth stood a few feet away, her expression unreadable. With her hair soaked and her clothes clinging to her frame, she looked smaller, fragile. Mason ached to reach out, wrap her arms around her, but she held herself back.

"So that was a really amazing plan you came up with," she said when the silence became oppressive. "You saved our skins, you know."

"I was thinkin' about what you told me, our first day trainin'," Beth said quietly. "About how you won your fights because you knew a few tricks. Because you taught me how to improvise."

Mason blinked. "Oh. Well. Awesome. Now I can claim all the glory."

Beth didn't smile like Mason was hoping she would. Her eyes were serious, almost solemn. Mason tried not to fidget.

"Um. So, what brings you out here?"

"You."

"How'd you know I'd be out here?"

Beth laughed a little. "You _always_ come out here, Mason. When are you gonna stop pretendin' I don't know you?"

Heat flamed along Mason's neck and into her cheeks. "I guess you do know me pretty well," she said lamely.

"And you found a way to take your iPod out in the rain," Beth said, taking a step closer. Mason didn't know why, but she was overcome with an odd urge to retreat.

Ignoring this, she held her ground and said, "Yep. Genius points to me."

"Anythin' I know?" Another step closer.

"Pardon?"

"The song. Are you playin' anythin' I know?" Another.

"Oh, um, no. I-I don't think so. Beth."

"Yeah?"

"I'm…I'm sorry. About that day, with Merle. I just had a lot of shit on my mind and I needed an escape."

Beth's eyes softened. "I know. I'm sorry I got so mad. It just seemed like, after that night on the roof, you and I…"

Mason went absolutely still. Even her heart paused. "Y-you and I what?"

"Were different. And I liked it. I didn't want things to go back to how they were before you let us in. I didn't want you to disappear again."

Mason swallowed around the lump in her throat. "I'm sorry," she mumbled. "Sometimes I really suck at dealing with. You know. _Emotions_."

Beth smiled. "You say that like they're a bad thing."

 _Sometimes they are,_ Mason thought, but she kept this to herself.

"I know you think you feel too much," Beth continued. "But you don't. It's…it's one of the things I love about you."

That word, _love,_ resonated in her chest like a bell rung. She blinked stupidly, and her words started to run together while her mind bleated in panic.

"O-oh, that's good. Yeah, I love…I mean, you're great, too. So many things are great. About you, I mean. You're, uh, you're sweet and smart and pretty… I mean, no. I-I mean, yes! You are, but, like…"

"Mason."

Mason dimly registered the tremor in Beth's voice, but it was secondary to the horror she felt at her own inability to shut the fuck up.

"I'm sorry, I don't…I don't know why I'm rambling…"

Beth just repeated her name, so softly, like she was sharing a secret.

Then her eyes fixed like steel on Mason's and she strode purposefully forward, closing the difference between the two of them, grabbed Mason's face between her hands and kissed her.

There was a moment in which shock overrode everything. Mason's eyes flared wide as her breath caught in her lungs. Her heart hung suspended, scorched by the impossibility of the moment.

 _I'm dreaming,_ she thought. But…

Beth's lips were soft and insistent, determined to shape themselves exactly around Mason's. Her hands were gentle but firm. The ridge of her scar brushed distinctly along Mason's jawline. It was everything she'd ever dreamed.

It was too _real_ to be a dream. And with this recognition everything inside of her came alive all at once.

Her eyes closed. Her fingers wove through the sodden strands of Beth's hair, pulling her closer. Her heart thundered in a new rhythm, lashing her veins with fire.

 _Everything_ was fire. Heat. Beth. Everything was Beth. The smell of her, the perfume of the rain, the music building to crescendo. They were an island in their kiss, their world no bigger and no less idyllic than that of a snow globe.

It was forever, and it was much too short.

Eventually, Beth pulled away, breathless. Her eyes were the brightest, loveliest things Mason had ever seen. They leaned their foreheads together, bumping noses.

"I'm sorry," Beth said.

Mason stared. "What in the hell for?"

"I didn't ask permission. I thought I'd think of somethin'…I don't know… _romantic_ to say but then I just…" She trailed off, shrugging shyly.

"Well, you _did_ kind of attack me…"

Beth punched her arm playfully. "You're always harpin' on _me_ to expect the unexpected."

"I guess we'll just have to add attack kisses to our training."

Even saying it turned her face beet red, but she didn't try to take it back.

"That's a good idea," Beth said, pink-cheeked and glistening in the rain. "Maybe we could start now?"

" _That_ is a good idea."

They kissed as long as the rain continued, which was a very long time. The western sky was a golden blaze by the time they returned to the prison. They had to make up a story about why their clothes were covered in mud, why their hair was mottled with grass and leaves, but this didn't bother them in the slightest.

As Mason fell asleep that night, curled up with Beth in the bottom bunk, she let her heart kindle the hope she'd thought dead for so long.

She was no longer afraid to feel it.

~m~

" _So don't make me wait, honey,_

 _don't make me say it out loud,_

 _don't hesitate now, honey,_

 _or it will all fall down._ "


	13. Youth

Hey, guys, thanks so much for your reviews and support! I'm back with a new chapter and we've officially jumped to S4! The chapter title is a song by Glass Animals, and it is absolutely incredible. There is another song I reference in here, called "Work Song" by Hozier, and it is a _perfect_ TWD song in my humble opinion. If you get the chance, you should give them a listen. Anyway, let me know what you think.

13\. Youth

" _Boy, when I left you, you were young._

 _I was gone, but not my love._

 _You were clearly meant for more_

 _than a life lost in the war._ "

~m~

Morning cast the world in brilliant orange. There was enough chill in the air to remind Mason of winter, to make her that much more grateful that spring had come.

She ran, swift and rhythmic. Birds parted in her wake. Walkers snarled but were too slow to catch her. She smiled through it all, disappearing in the burn of her legs, disappearing in her music, turned up as loud as it would go.

Months of rigorous physical therapy with Carol and Hershel had healed her knee back to near perfection. She knew how to land her feet without awakening the old injury. She knew how to stretch it after so that it wouldn't seize up. She'd never felt so damn good.

She made her regular circuit, though she felt perfectly capable of running forever. Sasha and Tyreese opened the gate when she returned. Carl and Rick waved to her from the patch of sweet corn they were tending. Carol handed her a cluster of grapes on her way inside. Her heart warmed at the routine of it all, and kindled at the sight of Beth waiting for her in the cell block.

Beth grinned and handed her a bottle of water. "Hey."

"Hey."

Mason showed Beth the grapes. "First of the season. I'll split 'em with you, but for a price."

"Oh, yeah? What price would that be?"

Mason gave her a cheesy smile and tapped her lips. Beth's eyes sparkled.

"You're lucky I love grapes so much," she teased before kissing her.

No matter how many times they kissed, Mason never got used to it. Her stomach whirled with butterflies, her mind hummed with electricity. And, of course, as with most things practiced over time, it had only gotten better.

"Don't you two have a cell you could do that in?"

Mason leaned away reluctantly to flip Daryl the bird. He responded in kind, his own middle finger grungy with walker blood.

"Found a Big Spot a few miles out," he said. "Looks like it used to be a FEMA camp. It's surrounded by walkers so there's probably still some supplies inside. You wanna come?"

"Sounds like fun."

"I'll round up a few others. Meet us at the cars in ten."

When he'd gone, Mason tucked a strand of hair behind Beth's ear. "Anything you want me to look for while I'm out?"

Beth pretended to think about it. "Hmm, I don't _think_ so…"

"Oh, really? So if I happen to see that sweet Chex mix you like and I _don't_ bring it back, you won't beat my ass?"

"I wouldn't test my luck if I were you."

"Alright, killer, I'll look for some."

Daryl waited for her at the gate with Sasha and Maggie. On seeing her, Maggie smiled.

"Hey, sis. You comin' with?"

"I'm always up for an adventure."

It had taken Mason a while to get used to the way Maggie treated her after confessing her relationship with Beth. Instead of shock, she'd been instantly inducted into the family. An only child, she'd always longed for a big sister, and she didn't think she'd be happier with anyone else.

"Sasha's been arguin' with Daryl about whether we should even go."

"What? Why?"

Sasha glanced back at them. "Because we are never getting past those walkers. There are easily seventy behind that fence."

"I scouted that place, too. There's a door on the side, we can slip right in," Daryl said. Mason recognized his combative voice and angled her way casually between them.

"Wait, wait, guys, just hold up," she said, but neither of them acted as though they'd heard.

"And what if things go south?" Sasha challenged. "We'd be trapped in there with close to a hundred walkers outside, not to mention however many there are inside."

"Man, if they haven't gotten out yet I doubt they're gonna now," Daryl growled.

"No, she's right," Maggie said. "They'll get riled up while we're there. We can't risk it when we don't know what's waiting for us inside. We need to know we'll be able to escape."

Daryl looked as though he would've argued further, but Mason threw him a cautionary glance.

"What if we drew them out first?" she suggested.

"Just the four of us?" Sasha shook her head. "It's too dangerous."

"That's not what I meant."

~m~

 _Afternoon sun slanted lazily through the barred windows. Dust motes made galaxies in its golden light. The cell block was empty, everyone outside enjoying the weather, the last warm sigh before autumn. Everything was so peaceful._

 _"Mason, you're crushin' my hand."_

 _"Shit, sorry."_

 _Beth smiled, but she couldn't suppress her anxiety completely. Her ocean eyes wavered._

 _"Are you sure you're ready?"_

 _Mason forced a smile. "Yep."_

~m~

Mason propped her feet up on the tire of the car they'd just gutted and raised an eyebrow at Daryl.

"So you gonna tell me why you're so pissy today? Or is it just a special treat for the rest of us?"

"It's a special treat," Daryl growled, keeping his eyes on the car battery before him.

"Well, I was just wondering why you thought it necessary to bite Sasha's head off for being practical…"

"I'm trynna work here, alright? Why don't you go and do something useful?"

Mason stretched her legs insolently. "I came up with this idea. I've already done something useful."

Daryl glared at her blackly.

"I'm _kidding_ , Daryl. Jesus."

She kept quiet after that, watching him work. She knew if he was in a better mood, he would explain the process to her. As it was, it looked pretty straightforward. Boombox plus car battery equals a grade A lure.

When he was done, Mason silently handed him the CD she'd scavenged from the car. He popped it in the boombox, pressed play and turned the volume as high as it would go.

"I feel like John Cusack in _Say Anything_ ," Mason said as they sneaked away, back to the car where Maggie and Sasha kept watch.

Daryl's face remained impassive. "If you say so."

Mason sighed.

The silence crackled between them, but after a moment Daryl broke it to murmur, "Today's my brother's birthday."

Mason stuttered in her stride. "Oh."

She felt the familiar pang of loss at the thought of his wayward brother. The asshole who had encouraged her to care even though he thought it was pointless.

"I'm sorry," she began, but Daryl shook his head.

"Nah, it's stupid. It never mattered when he was alive. Merle was always too drunk or too hungover to celebrate, even when we were young. It definitely don't matter now."

Gently, she replied, "It obviously does."

"Nah. It don't."

It was obvious from his tone that Daryl considered the matter closed. He walked on pointedly, though she saw the telltale twitch of his jaw, his teeth worrying his lip. She knew there was nothing she could say that would be of any real comfort, so she resorted to her own personal fallback.

"Honestly, I don't think there's any better way to celebrate Merle's birthday than by stealing a car battery and picking fights with your friends."

She paused to throw him a teasing grin.

"I think he'd be damn proud of his baby brother."

Daryl glanced at her. The raw emotion in his eyes softened.

"C'mon," he murmured.

Maggie smiled at her when she climbed in the car. "Good thinkin' with the music."

Mason crossed her arms behind her head. "Yeah, I always knew my elaborate suicide attempts were just practice for the big leagues."

In the rearview mirror, Sasha rolled her eyes.

~m~

 _Hershel smiled when they knocked on his cell._

 _"Evening, Bethy, Mason. I would have thought you two'd be outside enjoying this sun."_

 _"Oh, we're going to, Daddy," Beth said. Her voice was too bright. "We just were hopin' to talk with you first."_

 _"Of course. What's on your mind?"_

 _Beth and Mason exchanged a nervous glance, and Mason found suddenly that she couldn't speak. After a moment, Hershel raised an eyebrow._

 _"Is everything okay?"_

 _Beth took a deep breath, closed her eyes and said, "Daddy, Mason and I are datin'."_

~m~

"What's this one called again?"

"Matcha. It's like the queen of green tea."

"I think it's my new favorite. Tastes like drinkin' a garden."

Beth and Mason lay side by side on the bottom bunk, sipping their tea from chipped mugs. Music played low in the background.

"I'll have to find some more then. You know what I _really_ wish I had?"

"Some honey Chex mix sounds nice."

Mason laughed and elbowed Beth in the ribs. "Will you let that go?"

"I suppose I could be convinced to be charitable."

Mason leaned in to kiss her, but stopped short when Beth added, "With grapes."

"Spoiled."

When Mason returned with the grapes, the song had changed and Beth was singing along to it. She paused to smile and say, "I remember you singin' this to me on my birthday."

Mason flushed a little. She'd never been comfortable singing around people. Beth was the first person she'd sung to since Gina. But she smiled back, sat next to her on the bed and joined in softly.

" _There's nothing sweeter than my baby._

 _I'd never want once from the cherry tree_

 _'cause my baby's sweet as can be,_

 _she gives me toothaches just from kissing me._ "

Beth leaned her head on Mason's shoulder, her arms wrapped snug around her waist. Her proximity set Mason on fire.

" _When my time comes around_

 _lay me gently in the cold, dark earth._

 _No grave could hold my body down,_

 _I'll crawl home to her._ "

"I love this song," Beth whispered. "But it makes me sad."

"Me, too."

"Well, I don't wanna be sad." Beth hopped up from the bunk. "Let's go for a walk! Maybe we could scavenge a bit?"

Mason couldn't hide the objection on her face. Beth frowned.

"Mason…"

"We really don't need to scavenge right now, you know."

"We always need to. The scavengin' never stops. C'mon, I thought we were past this."

After a moment, Mason sighed. "Alright. But I don't want to go far. Daryl caught that deer earlier and I want to be back before all these other vultures pick it clean."

~m~

 _Mason's heart thumped hard enough to hurt. Her hand was sweaty in Beth's but she didn't dare pull away._

 _Hershel kept them in suspense for a few seconds before he finally spoke._

 _"Well, thank goodness. I thought you two were gonna keep silent about it until I was old and gray."_

 _Then he laughed._

 _Mason stared. "I…uh…I…we…"_

 _"We…haven't…" Beth blinked. "We just started datin'."_

 _It was Hershel's turn to look surprised. "Really? Well, I'm happy either way."_

 _Beth sagged with relief. "Thank you," she murmured and hugged him with one arm, her other hand still clasped in Mason's._

 _"But I would like to have a word with Mason," he added. Mason was too nervous to decide if it was a twinkle she saw in his eyes or the glint of murder._

 _"Daddy," Beth protested._

 _"N-no, it's okay," Mason said._

 _"It'll just take a second," Hershel agreed._

~m~

"You never told me what you really wished you had."

They wandered unhurriedly through the woods, admiring the brave shoots of early green awakening from the gray. Their hands were clasped, arms swinging lightly. The peace was picturesque.

"Oh. It was nothing," Mason said.

"It wasn't _nothin'_ ," Beth replied. "C'mon, what was it?"

"Well, if you _must_ know, I was wishing I had some whiskey. Or maybe gin, I can't decide."

Beth pulled them both to a stop, her eyes wide and serious. "What's wrong?"

Mason blinked. "What? Nothing."

But it was clear that Beth didn't believe her. Mason laughed a little.

"Nothing has to be wrong for me to want a drink. I just always want a drink when something's wrong."

"Then why do you want a drink this time?"

"I…because I'm happy."

Slowly, Beth's face softened. Her free hand ghosted to Mason's face, and Mason leaned into the touch, closing her eyes.

The kiss did not surprise her, but her heart jumped all the same. She sighed when Beth pulled away.

"Well. Now I know what I want to scavenge."

Mason opened one eye. "What?"

Beth grinned. "Whiskey. Or gin, I haven't decided."

"No, Beth, it's fine."

"No, I've decided. It's what I want. Let's go."

Despite several attempts to dissuade her, Mason found herself leading Beth to the liquor store. It was the same one she'd raided several times before, and it felt a bit like a home away from home.

"Keep close to me," Mason whispered.

Beth, with knife in one hand and gun in the other, just rolled her eyes.

They didn't dawdle, though Mason sensed that Beth would have stayed longer to examine all of the bottles. They found gin and whiskey, and took both.

"So what's it taste like?" Beth asked as they headed for home.

"Shit," Mason replied.

"My dad said he liked the taste of whiskey. He said it got him in trouble all the time."

"It can do that. Beer's about the only thing I drink for taste."

"Well, what does _that_ taste like?"

"It depends. Some of them-"

But Mason cut off as a flock of dark outlines lumbered into their path. She grabbed Beth's hand and made to cut around them, but more of them came flooding from the other side.

They stumbled back, but the walkers surged after them. There was no way out but through.

~m~

 _Mason fidgeted from foot to foot, until Hershel gestured for her to sit on the bunk next to him. Cautiously she did, and he laughed._

 _"I've never seen anyone look more frightened of an old man."_

 _"We thought…maybe you wouldn't…" But she trailed off, shrugging sheepishly._

 _"That I wouldn't approve?"_

 _Mason nodded mutely._

 _Hershel was silent for a moment, as though gathering his words together. Then he looked up, and held her gaze as he said, "Mason, there is no one I'd rather have dating my daughter. I want you to know that."_

 _"Really?" Mason murmured._

 _"Of course. I see the way you care about her. Your first instinct is to make sure she's safe. How could I disapprove of that?"_

 _"I just didn't know how you'd feel about the whole…you know…me-being-a-girl thing."_

 _"Well, I was a bit surprised when I first figured it out. Bethy's never shown any interest, you see. But, no, it never bothered me. Before the world changed it might've taken some getting used to, but I'm wiser now. I'm a lucky father, for my daughter to have found someone like you."_

 _Mason swallowed, though it took a little effort. She tried not to feel embarrassed by the tears in her eyes._

 _"Thank you," she whispered. "I'm the lucky one. And I will take care of her."_

 _"I know."_

~m~

Mason raised her gun and fired six quick shots, clearing a narrow path through the horde. She shoved Beth through first, sticking right on her heels.

"Go! Run!"

Before they could make it very far, one of the walkers snatched Mason by the back of her shirt.

" _Shit,_ " she choked, lurching away from its snapping teeth.

"Mason!"

Beth jabbed her knife over Mason's shoulder. It sunk deep through the walker's eye, spraying the back of Mason's neck with gore. Beth tugged her out of its loosened grip, but in the time they had lost the walkers had surrounded them.

"Get behind me," Mason growled.

They stood back to back, weapons raised, and when Beth trembled against her Mason's blood flamed with fury.

 _I will take care of her._

Time blurred and so did she. She was only keenly aware of Beth's movements, orienting herself around them, desperate to be everywhere at once. Everything else was a mess of violence.

 _I will take care of her._

 _I know._

She had promised, she had _promised_ , but now all she could see was teeth, the flash of Beth's knife, lifeless eyes the color of rotten milk. Some of them wept blood. The stench of death buried her.

Then one of the dead grabbed Beth by the hair, and red bathed Mason's vision, as though she wept blood, too.

Her pounding heart kept time, but she forgot all of it as soon as she exhaled her next breath. All she knew was that one moment they were crushed in a walker horde, and the next she was kneeling in the winter-worn grass, stained with foul blood.

"Mason."

She couldn't stop staring at the ground beneath her, the russet puddles reflecting the fading light. Her hands made fists in the grass. Her knuckles turned white. She'd been here before. She'd been here, except…

" _Mason_."

Beth staggered over and cupped her face, ran an urgent hand through her hair. Mason blinked, slowly, and remembered where she was.

She'd been here before, yes, but this time was different.

"You're here," she rasped. "You're still here."

Understanding sharpened Beth's gaze. Her gentle touches stilled.

"I always will be," she promised. Then, just slightly, she smiled. "Someone's gotta look after you."

Mason hung her head with nod and remembered how to breathe.

"C'mon, let's get back. It's gettin' dark."

~m~

 _Beth was practically bouncing with anxiety when Mason returned to their cell._

 _"So? What did he say?"_

 _"Oh, he totally chewed my head off. I've never been so afraid of a one-legged man in my life."_

 _Beth looked at her flatly. "I'm serious."_

 _"Alright, alright."_

 _Mason sat next to Beth on the bed, twining their fingers together. The action felt so natural, like they'd been holding hands for years._

 _"He was incredibly cool about it," Mason said. "You're really lucky to have him as a dad."_

 _Beth smiled. "I know."_

 _Mason kissed her forehead. "So I guess now all that's left is telling the others."_

 _"Um…I'm pretty sure they already know. I think."_

 _"Wait. H-how?"_

 _"Mason, even_ I _saw how we've been actin' around each other. The others aren't blind, you know."_

 _Mason blushed. "Oh. Well. One less thing, I guess."_

 _Beth giggled. "It's so cute you don't know how obvious you are."_

 _"Maybe that was just a part of my master plan."_

 _"Uh huh. Right. Shut up and kiss me."_

~m~

After they had showered off the blood, Beth and Mason retreated to their cell for the night. Beth drew the curtain across the doorway. Mason poured herself a drink. They lounged together on the bed, listening to the noises of their group winding down for the night. For the first time in a while, Mason felt separate from it.

"Mason?" Beth's voice was quiet.

"Yeah."

"Today…what happened…it's okay."

Mason frowned. "It's not."

"It _is_ ," Beth said. "I mean. The world's not ideal anymore, but what happened today happens all the time. That's life now. And you're good at it, and you taught _me_ to be good at it. We survived. We didn't get hurt. Everything's okay."

Mason stared broodingly into her cup. She'd decided on whiskey after all. Its amber glint reminded her of that day with Hershel, her promise. She sighed.

"You're right. I know," she said. "This is living now, and you _are_ good at it. It wasn't me that made you that way. You're a survivor all on your own."

Beth took Mason's hand and held it in her lap. "You can't protect me all the time, and that's not your fault."

This one was harder to admit, but Mason nodded all the same. "I…I know. That doesn't mean I'm not going to try."

"I just don't want you to disappear again."

"I'm not going anywhere. I just wish…I wish you didn't have to be good at this, at what living is now. I wish I could give you a different world, Beth."

"You gave me you, Mason," Beth said. "I don't want anythin' else."

They laid in bed for a while after, tangled and silent, before sleep found them.

~m~

" _Boy, I want you to be happy,_

 _free to run, get dizzy on caffeine,_

 _funny friends that make you laugh,_

 _and maybe you're just a little bit…_ "


	14. River

Hey, guys! Thank you so much for the reviews, I can't say how much I appreciate them! Today's chapter title is "River" by Bishop Briggs, which is a perfect song for TWD in my opinion. Also, ya'll get your fill of fluff now because there might be a shortage of it in the next few chapters! As always, let me know what you think :)

14\. River

Beth's eyes widened at the sight of Mason climbing out of the car, clothes torn, splattered with blood from head to toe. She rushed past Glenn and Tyreese, Michonne and Daryl, and swept Mason into her arms.

"What happened? Are you okay?"

Mason could barely manage a nod, she was so exhausted. "Yeah. I'm okay. But we lost Zach. We almost lost Bob. But there's some good news. I found this."

She handed Beth a bag of sweet Chex mix, the only bag she'd managed to salvage before everything went to shit. Then she walked inside with the rest of her worn crew.

~m~

"…so now I guess we'll have to start clearing rooftops, too."

Mason and Beth sat on the roof of the prison, sipping their nightly tea. The weather was cool again, winter not yet ready to release its hold. She'd just finished recounting her return trip to the Big Spot. Her little distraction with the boombox had worked after all, and the whole group had been optimistic until the roof caved in, spilling its load of dead ones.

Beth hugged her close. "I wish I'd've gone with you."

"No. I'm glad you didn't go. I've never seen anything like that. I don't want to again."

She curled up in Beth's arms and let herself be soothed by the steady beat of her heart. Drifting on the edge of sleep, she was uncomfortably warm but unwilling to disentangle from Beth.

"You know what I just realized today, waitin' for you to come home?"

"Mmm…?"

"There's somethin' very important that I haven't said. I can't believe I haven't said it before now."

Her curiosity outweighed her sleepiness. Mason looked up. "What's that?"

"I love you."

For a moment, the only sound was the intermittent breeze, bringing with it the distant snarl of walkers. Beth looked away shyly, up at the stars that winked back. The tiniest fingernail of moon cut a sliver in the western sky.

Then Mason grinned. "Usually it's _me_ who's flustered."

Beth gaped. "Shut up, I am not!"

"You are, too."

"I'm not! It's just… I've been worryin' about how to say it all day and _that's_ how you respond?"

"Hey, Beth?"

"What?"

"I love you, too."

Beth tried to maintain a glare, but her lips betrayed her, pulling into a relieved smile.

"You do?"

"Um, _yeah_. Jesus, you say _I'm_ oblivious."

With a growl, Beth tackled her, planting a barrage of kisses over her face and neck until Mason was a giggling mess. Successfully distracted, the horrors of the day retreated to a lockbox in her mind.

~m~

Screams jolted her out of sleep the next morning. Dizzily she sat up, extricating herself from Beth's limbs. She scrambled out of bed and grabbed her gun and iron.

"What's goin' on?" Beth asked, still half-asleep.

"I don't know. Stay here."

Before Beth could protest, she hurried away. Her heart squeezed with fear at the sound of gunshots, so loud they could only be coming from inside the prison.

As she rushed toward the sound, a slew of bloody figures passed her, fleeing from the direction of D block.

"What's going on?" she shouted over the din, but no one stopped to explain. Gritting her teeth, she quickened her pace.

Chaos greeted her. People ran screaming in all directions, and in between them Mason caught sight of walkers taking their lunch.

 _How the fuck did they get in?_ she wondered, until she recognized one of the faces.

"Shit."

She ran her iron through the walker's skull, ignoring its familiar features.

Daryl, Glenn and Rick arrived then. She fell in step with them, slinging her iron with practiced ease and pretending they were on another mission. That the walkers were just dead strangers.

It was only when the cell block was clear that she leaned against the wall and took in the full gravity of the situation.

"Jesus…" she whispered.

Half of group D lay strewn across the room, some of them in pieces. The whole block reeked of blood, both rancid and fresh.

Rick caught her eye from the top floor, where he and Daryl had brought down the last of the walkers. There was a fear there that she hadn't seen in nearly a year.

"We need to call a meeting," Glenn said. "Mason, go let the rest of the council know what happened."

Shaking Rick's fear from her own shoulders, she nodded and disappeared.

~m~

"Patrick was fine yesterday, and he died overnight."

The council was gathered around a table in the library- Mason and Daryl, Carol and Hershel, Glenn and Sasha. The empty space where Rick used to sit kept drawing Mason's eye. She wished he was here for once. She wanted him to weigh in on what they'd discovered about the disaster in D block- that some kind of flu had killed Patrick. The memory of his eyes, bulging with blood, made her squirm.

"Two people died that quick?" Carol continued. "We have to separate everyone that's been exposed."

"That's everyone in that cell block," Daryl said. "That's all of us."

Mason swallowed, glancing at each of their sobered faces. Sweat trickled down the back of her neck.

Hershel sighed. "We know that this sickness can be lethal. We _don't_ know how easily it spreads. Is anyone else showin' symptoms that we know of?"

Carol's brows pinched. "We can't just wait and see. People die and become a threat."

"We need a place for them to go. They can't stay in D," Hershel said.

"What about A?" Mason suggested.

Glenn raised an eyebrow. "Death row? Not sure that's much of an upgrade."

"It's clean," Daryl said. "That's an upgrade."

Hershel waited for anyone else to object, but when no one did he said, "I'll help Caleb get set up in there. When we-"

He cut off at the sound of labored coughing from out in the hall. The whole council rose to their feet at once, hurrying into the hall to find Tyreese leading Karen toward C block.

"I'm okay," she was assuring him, but her words trailed off in another coughing fit.

"Are you sure?" Carol asked. "You don't sound so good."

"I'm just taking her back to my cell so she can rest," Tyreese explained.

"Tyreese," Hershel said. "I don't think that's a good idea."

Mason leaned against the wall while he explained, fidgeting with her shirt. She wiped a wrist across her forehead and it came away glistening with sweat.

"David, from the Decatur group," Karen said. "He's been coughing, too."

Glenn and Sasha exchanged a glance. "I'll get him," he said.

She nodded and turned to Karen. "C'mon. We'll get you settled."

Once they'd gone, Hershel turned to Daryl and Mason. "We'll need to call another meeting later. Hopefully by then we'll know more."

"Okay. We'll get to buryin' the dead ones," Daryl said.

"You wear gloves and masks," Hershel said, and his tone brooked no argument.

Daryl touched Mason on the arm. "C'mon."

Once outside with their shovels, Mason tied a rag over Daryl's nose and mouth. He paused in doing the same for her.

"You alright?"

She nodded, unwilling to tell him that the rag made her feel stifled. Like she was breathing pure heat. Wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead, she followed him into the field.

They'd dug four graves when Rick found them. Without looking up, Daryl said, "Glad you were in there today."

"Wasn't much use without my gun." The shame in Rick's voice was palpable.

"No, you were."

Daryl planted his shovel in the dirt and looked at Rick.

"All this time you've been takin' off? You earned it. We wouldn't be here without you."

Rick picked up one of the extra shovels with a sound of disagreement. "It was all of us."

"No," Daryl said. "It was you first. So you gonna help us figure this out?"

Mason hesitated, shovel poised over the churned earth. Her clothes clung to her body. She had an irrational urge to tear them off.

"I screwed up too many times," Rick said, and in his eyes she saw the ghosts. Sometimes they came back out of nowhere. Sometimes circumstance resurrected them. But she saw them for what they were. She always did.

"I can't make those calls anymore. I almost lost my boy, who he was. Whatever else this place needs, I'm here for it."

"Like I said, you earned it," Daryl replied. "For what it's worth, you see mistakes? I see when the shit hits, you're standin' there with a shovel."

" _Rick_!"

All three of them whipped around to see Maggie rushing toward the fence, which bowed and swayed with the force of the walkers piled against it. Dropping their shovels, they sprinted over.

Glenn, Sasha and Tyreese joined them at the gate, grabbing up pipes and metal rods. Mason swung her fire poker off her shoulder and set to work jabbing it through the chain link. The dead ones snarled and snapped, pressing relentlessly on the fence, which looked pathetically flimsy against their monstrous weight.

But no matter how many walkers they dropped, it made little difference. The fence bent at a perilous angle and the wooden struts notched against it began to splinter.

" _It's gonna give!_ " Rick shouted, dropping his pipe to lean instead against the fence.

Everyone followed suit at once, though Mason's heart thundered with the futility of it. There were just too many. Her shoulder ached as she pressed with all her strength, but it was soon spent. Hot walker breath slipped a fetid finger down her throat, gagging her violently. Her whole body shook, dripping sweat. Her feet began to slide in the gravel.

" _Shit_ … Back up! Back up!"

Daryl grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the weakened fence. All of them stood staring, breathless and helpless, as it began to fold.

Then Rick said, "Daryl, get the truck. I know what to do."

It was all Mason could do not to collapse with relief, though it disappeared quickly when he told them his plan. Her stomach turned with guilt, and she saw it in his eyes. She always did.

The pigs made an effective sacrifice, allowing Mason and the others a chance to mend the fence.

~m~

After the walkers were drawn away, Maggie and Glenn took up shovels and set to work helping Mason dig graves. Rick and Daryl had disappeared, led away a while ago by a distraught Tyreese.

 _What else could possibly go wrong?_ she wondered, swaying a little as she drove her shovel down. Heat clouded her veins. Her muscles trembled with a deep, insistent ache.

"Hey," Glenn said. "You okay?"

Mason nodded faintly, blinking sweat from her eyes. She tried to pull the shovel up but the blade was lodged in the dirt. Readjusting her grip, wincing at the sting of rising blisters, she managed one halfhearted tug before stumbling to her knees.

"Mason!"

Glenn hopped into the grave with her. She barely felt his hands under her arms, lifting her up. She was a heat wave.

"Jesus, you're burning up. We need to get you to Caleb. Maggie, stay back."

Mason tried to protest. "No…I'm just…"

But her words trailed off as the world slipped away, and all the strength drained from her legs. She collapsed in the wounded earth.

~m~

When she awoke, she kept her eyes closed. Her whole body throbbed. Her blood felt thick and heavy and _hot_.

 _Sick,_ she thought dimly. _I'm sick. I have it._ For some reason it was hard to process this.

Muffled voices reached her but she couldn't make out the words. Where was she? Were the graves dug? Was Tyreese alright, whatever had happened?

Was Beth alright?

This roused her enough to open her eyes, though they fought to stay closed. She blinked the film of sleep from them and slowly, painfully, raised herself into a sitting position.

She held her head in her hands. "Jesus…" she croaked. It felt like a knife behind her eyes.

"Mason?"

She looked up at the familiar voice, weakened by illness, and saw Sasha leaning into the darkened cell where she lay.

 _A block,_ she realized.

"Sasha," she rasped. "You look like shit."

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Likewise."

Mason rubbed her clammy palms on her knees. "Who else is in here?"

"Most of D block. Me, you, and Glenn. Beth is okay. She and Carl are keeping watch on the kids in the administrative wing."

Mason sighed with a relief, which dissolved abruptly into a coughing fit.

"Shit," she spat when she could breathe. "Where's Dr. S?"

"Sick."

The look they shared then iced them over. From somewhere close by, someone cut the silence with a gurgling cough.

"Tyreese came to visit me," Sasha said after a moment. "He said Daryl's taking a group out to find meds. We could have them as early as tomorrow."

Mason nodded, pretending to look comforted, but it was difficult when Sasha sounded like she was pretending the same thing.

"He also told me that someone killed Karen and David."

" _What_?"

Sasha nodded grimly. "Someone killed them and set them on fire, out behind the tombs."

Even in her addled state, it took less than a second to figure out why.

"They were sick…" she murmured.

"That's what Rick thinks, that someone killed them to stop it from spreading."

Mason almost laughed. "He doesn't know who did it?"

"No."

At the sound of a door opening and closing, they paused. Mason rose clumsily out of bed and followed Sasha out of the cell.

Hershel limped toward them. "Stay in bed," he said. "I'll come to you."

Too tired to wonder at what he thought he could do, Mason retreated to her cot. She lay there, drifting in and out of sleep, until Hershel arrived. He helped her sit up and handed her a cup.

"Drink this," he said. "It's a natural flu remedy my wife used to make. It'll help keep the symptoms at bay."

Mason took a sip and smiled. "Elderberry?"

Hershel blinked in surprise. "Yes."

"My friend, Gina, was into all that homeopathic stuff. She's the one that got me hooked on tea."

He patted her on the shoulder. "Well, drink up. I'll come back to check on you in a bit."

~m~

Time passed in strange lurches. Even when she wasn't sleeping, she forgot whole segments of it. Occasionally the burn in her limbs would become too much and she would have to move around, stumbling around the shadowed block, checking in on Sasha and Glenn. She drank all the tea Hershel offered her and tried to keep her mind off of things.

At some point in the night, she was startled out of an approximation of sleep by the shuddering gurgle of someone struggling for breath. She rolled as quickly as she could off of her sweat-stained cot and rushed out of her cell.

She was greeted by the sight of a man clutching the side of the stairs, convulsing as he vomited blood. His eyes blinked wildly, sightless and viscous with red.

Hershel limped over quickly and half-guided, half-dragged the man into the visitation room. Glancing surreptitiously from cell to cell- everyone seemed to be asleep- she shuffled unevenly after them.

When she got there, the man was face down on the floor and Hershel was kneeling over him, his head bowed in utter defeat. Noting her arrival, however, he straightened up immediately.

"He's the first?" she asked.

"Yes."

Mason pulled her knife from her belt and knelt across from him. He frowned sternly.

"You shouldn't be here. You should be resting."

"You can't do this all by yourself," she replied and ran the knife through the dead man's head.

Hershel was quiet for a moment, and then he said, "Thank you."

"No problem, old man. I think I have a few more hours in me if you need anything else."

"Thank you," he repeated.

~m~

She collapsed on her cot a few hours later, barely able to see straight. She and Hershel had stopped only briefly to talk with Maggie through the window in the visitation room. Daryl's group still hadn't returned. She was helping Rick monitor the fence. Beth was still safe, taking care of Little Asskicker.

"She wanted to come see you," Maggie said. "But I told her it'd be better to stay with Judith."

"Thank you," Mason murmured. She had no doubt that if Beth caught so much as a glimpse of her condition, there'd be no way to keep her out.

Though she was seconds away from sleep, she couldn't help longing for her iPod. She hated the silence, and she hated the noises. She hated the whole place. She wanted to sleep in her own bed, with Beth next to her and music playing in the background. She wanted not to feel like she was seconds away from collapse.

 _Sleep,_ she told herself. _When you get out of here, you can listen to your music as much as you want._

Right before sleep overwhelmed her, she couldn't help adding, _If you get out._

~m~

In the dream, she was alone on a beach. Everything was dim, from dawn or dusk or heavy cloud cover, she couldn't really tell. She couldn't look away from the ocean. Something was coming, she could sense it. It filled her both with fear and with hope.

It started as a single speck on the distant water, growing steadily closer with each wave. Then a second. Then a third. As the distance closed between them, her heart began to race, building to fever pitch until her ribs rattled.

The second figure was still pregnant in the dream. The third still smiled, though half of his body had been eaten. Lori and T-Dog advanced without actually moving, their limbs draped with seaweed, their eyes speckled with salt.

The closest figure, the first, looked like a walker but it didn't move like one. It _danced_ toward her, moving languidly, moving like an ocean of its own. Its skin hung loose on its frame, the edges sparking with light. When it looked at her, its eyes flamed.

" _Mason_ ," it hissed, and she might've dropped to her knees if they hadn't locked in place.

"Gina," she said without a sound.

The walker grinned, buried its fingers in its face and, with a flourish, ripped off its skin.

Beneath Gina stood, blood and fire, her smile cartoonishly wide. Her hand reached for Mason's throat. Lori and T-Dog grabbed her arms. Mason stood stricken and allowed herself to be dragged beneath the tides.

~m~

 _Where am I?_

In the dark.

 _No. Eyes are closed._

Can't open them. Hurts.

 _What time is it?_

Does it matter?

 _Am I alone?_

You're with the ghosts.

 _Is someone screaming?_

It's just you.

 _I can't make a sound._

In your head.

 _No. Someone else._

~m~

The screaming was real, the gunshots even more so. Mason peeled her eyes open, wincing at the pain of such a simple movement. Even breathing hurt, her lungs chafed and heavy. Her nose and lips were sticky, and when she swallowed she tasted blood.

"Shit," she choked.

Rolling out of bed took more effort than it should've, and she ended up crawling across the room to brace herself against the doorframe.

"Her-shel…" she cried brokenly. The screaming drowned her out. Slowly she lurched into the mayhem.

Several bodies lay on the floor, puddles of blood haloing them like demented angels. Others ran screaming into cells, slamming shut their doors as those demented angels began to rise.

"Oh, fuck," she coughed, fumbling with the knife at her belt.

Before she could free it, a weight collapsed on her from behind, snarling in her ear. She slammed into the cement floor, squirming as teeth clicked at the base of her skull. The stench of blood and rot filled her throat.

Then the weight was gone, and fetid warmth slimed the back of her neck.

"Mason!"

Sasha rolled the body off of her and helped her into a sitting position.

"Did it get you?"

"No, no… What's going on?"

"I don't know but we need to find Hershel."

They leaned on each other as they hurried through the cell block, tag-teaming whatever walkers they came across. The world spun around her but Mason managed to stay on her feet.

At last they saw him, leading two walkers away from the cell where Luke and Lizzie cowered.

" _Fuck_."

Mason and Sasha propelled up the stairs as fast as they could, clinging to the rails and each other with weak and desperate hands.

Before they reached him, Hershel dropped both walkers with his shotgun.

"Hershel-" Sasha broke off with a heaving cough.

"Get back in your cells, now!" Hershel thundered.

"You can't lock us in," Mason said. "Let us help you."

His eyes flashed but he obviously saw no good in arguing, or at least no time for it.

"Glenn's in his cell. Both of you need to keep him turned on his side, keep the blood from choking him as long as possible."

They hurried to Glenn's cell without another word, where they found him convulsing on the floor. Together they turned him over, and Mason pried open his mouth for the blood to bubble out.

Her stomach twisted. A cold sweat broke out on her skin.

She gagged as something hot rose in her throat.

The world wrenched itself from under her.

"Shit, we need the airbag- Mason!"

But Sasha was gone, torn from her senses.

Everything was shaking, the prison was crumbling, the sky was writhing like dying snakes.

 _It's just you. It's just you. It's just you._

Liquid copper spilled from her mouth, burning, bubbling. There was no air. There was no air.

 _You're dying. You're dying._

The tides were washing over her in feverish swells. Salting her lips and tongue.

 _Death row_

Hands touching her face, her neck

 _Gina_

lifting her, rolling her

 _Gina_

dragging her down into everlasting dark.

~m~

It was like swimming, the coming back. The slow return of her senses.

Taste first, which was unpleasant. Bile and blood.

Then, touch. The plush pillow beneath her head. The cool air on her damp skin. Someone's hand stroking her hair.

Sound faded in, warped and muffled at first. Eventually she recognized voices.

It took time to build up the courage to open her eyes. But when she did, there was Maggie, smiling down at her with tender relief.

"Welcome back," she said.

~m~

" _Choke this love till the veins start to shiver._

 _One last breath till the tears start to wither._

 _Like a river, like a river,_

 _shut your mouth and run me like a river._ "


	15. Raise Your Weapon

Hey, ya'll! As always, thank you for the reviews, I love hearing what you guys think! This title chapter is "Raise Your Weapon" by deadmau5. It may not be everyone's cuppa, but I think it's pretty cool. Anyway, hope you enjoy.

15\. Raise Your Weapon

" _Love your ego, you won't feel a thing._

 _Always number one,_

 _the pen with a bent wrist crooked king._

 _Sign away our peace for your war._

 _One word and it's over._ "

~m~

"You should finish your breakfast. You need to keep your strength up."

Mason made a face at her oatmeal. "Well bring me something more edible then. Eggs Benedict sounds nice."

Maggie smiled and pulled Mason's iPod from her pocket. "I figured you'd want this. But I told Beth not to visit until _after_ you finish your food."

Mason groaned. "Goddammit, stop bribing me."

"I'm your sister now. I'm not gonna play fair."

She polished off her oatmeal, glaring the whole time, and then handed the bowl back to Maggie.

"How do you feel?"

"I'll keep it down, if that's what you're asking. I haven't felt nauseous since I woke up."

"Anythin' else?"

"Just tired." Mason smiled a little. "So about Beth…?"

Maggie ruffled her hair. "I'll get her."

While she waited, Mason laid back in her own bed. After Hershel had given her the green light to leave A block, she'd showered thoroughly and traded her clothes in for new ones. She wasn't taking the chance of bringing the virus back into C. Though she still felt groggy, she felt clean- as though she'd gone through the sickness and come out purer.

The blast, when it came, shook the prison hard enough that Mason's bones shuddered. She caught her iPod just before it clattered to the floor.

Panic sparked along her ribcage, jolting her heart and lungs. She jumped to her feet, swayed and nearly went down. The second time she was more successful, grabbing her fire poker and her gun. Her iPod she stuffed in her pocket. Her headphones hung around her neck. She didn't look back at the cell that had become her home. She didn't know she'd wish she had later.

Out in the courtyard, her group had gathered. Daryl and Beth, Maggie and Bob, Sasha and Tyreese, all gathered around Rick. Beyond them, through the gates and fences, a crowd of trucks gathered around a tank in much the same way.

The man poised on top of the tank was unmistakable.

Every vein in Mason's body turned to ice. She hurried over to Beth.

"What are you doin'?" she gasped, grabbing Mason's arms to steady her. "Go back inside."

"No-"

" _Rick_."

The Governor's voice carried confidently across the prison yard. Mason's knuckles turned white around the fire iron.

"Come down here. We need to talk."

"I don't make decisions anymore," Rick called. "There's a council now. They run this place."

"Is Hershel on the council?"

Mason stiffened as one of the Governor's men dragged Hershel out of a truck. Beth let out a strangled cry and leapt toward the gate, but Mason wrapped her arms around her and held her back.

"What about Michonne? She on the council, too?"

Horror made her hands go numb. Michonne and Hershel were led to the front of the tank and made to kneel. Michonne held her head high, even from a distance the picture of defiance. Hershel did not bow either, but he looked frail and drawn, still recovering from however many sleepless hours treating the sick.

"I don't make decisions anymore!" Rick repeated, but the fragile calm was slipping from his face.

"You're making the decisions today, Rick," the Governor hollered congenially. "Come down here and let's have that talk."

Rick exchanged a glance with Daryl, who dipped his head. Then he looked at Mason. She nodded grimly, wishing she could take his place, shoulder some of the weight.

Thrumming with tension, she watched as he opened the gate and strode down to the Governor and his men. The sight of him, alone and exposed, opened a pit in her stomach. She curbed the urge to run after him and buried her nose in Beth's hair, drawing comfort from her familiar warmth.

"We can't take 'em all on," Daryl murmured to the group. "Go through the admin building like we planned."

Right. Like they had planned months ago, nearly a _year_ ago, when the Governor was still a threat, still a _thought_. Seeing him here, now, after he had become a shadow in their memory… It made her feel a little crazy.

"We ain't got the numbers no more," Daryl continued. "When's the last time someone checked the stash on the bus?"

"Day before we hit the Big Spot," Sasha replied. "We were running low then, we're even lower now."

"We'll manage. Thing's go south, everyone heads for that bus. Ty, let everyone know."

"What if everybody isn't on it when things go bad? How long do we wait?"

"As long as we can."

Daryl snuck over to the bin where the emergency guns were kept, checking to see that the Governor's men were distracted before wheeling it over. Mason kept an eye on Rick, but though she could tell he was talking she was too far away to hear him.

Covertly, Daryl began handing out guns. When he got to her, he paused to push a damp strand of hair from her eyes.

"You alright?"

She nodded, but she knew that he knew she was lying. His eyes darkened. He took up a position between her and Carl, pointing his gun through the chain link.

Inevitably, the walkers appeared. There were only a few of them, and the Governor himself dropped them with his handgun, but the sound would only draw more. Mason had no doubt that Michonne and Hershel would be the first sacrifices offered when the herds came.

Carl sighed roughly. "We have to do something."

"Your dad's got it," Daryl growled.

"They're _talking._ I could kill the Governor _right now_."

Part of her wished she could agree with him, but she knew it wasn't the right call. The Governor's men would fire back; there were more of them, with bigger weapons. Michonne and Hershel would be caught in the crossfire. The rest of the group would likely die. The Governor had them by the balls.

"From fifty yards?" Daryl challenged.

"I'm a good shot. I could end this right now."

"Yeah, or you could start somethin' else. You gotta trust him."

Beth pulled out of Mason's grip to aim her own gun through the fence. The fear had not left her face, but her eyes were blue flames. Mason took her place at her side.

Minutes passed. They felt like years. They felt like seconds. Mason trembled from exhaustion and frustration, wishing she was close enough to hear what Rick was saying. Her gun trained on the Governor's face. Her finger itched to pull the trigger but she held back.

Suddenly, the Governor jumped down from his perch, his face contorted from whatever Rick had said. Maggie and Beth gasped simultaneously as the Governor drew Michonne's sword and placed it on Hershel's throat. The whole group tensed like a flexing muscle. Mason gritted her teeth and laid a hand on Beth's shoulder, a warning to keep her from firing her gun.

Rick stepped back a pace before pointing to one of the Governor's soldiers, a girl who eyed him with bewilderment. Fear. She backed away, looking from side to side as though for help. The man in the tank said something instead. Mason ached to shoot a hole through his cocky smile.

But whatever Rick was saying, it was not falling on deaf ears. Others of the Governor's group were beginning to look uncertain. Mason saw their expressions through her rifle scope. The Governor himself stared at Rick in confusion. A shock of hope ran through her. He was lowering the sword, his one good eye flickering dazedly from Rick to the ground to gleam of his stolen weapon. She held her breath, her grip on her own weapon loosening.

Finally he looked up. Whispered something.

And cleaved the sword through Hershel's neck.

Mason heaved a shuddering breath, but she couldn't feel it. Something was screaming. It was so loud she thought the earth, the air, was wailing its grief. Then she blinked, and the tears cleared from her eyes, and she realized that the screaming was coming from Maggie, and Beth, and Rick down in the field. It was coming from Mason, herself. It carved her throat raw.

Hershel joking with Mason just days after losing his leg.

Hershel assuring her that Beth was lucky to have her.

Hershel running himself ragged to keep the others alive. To keep _her_ alive.

" _NO_!" she screamed.

She was allowed only this second of grief, this cruel eternity, before the shooting started. The ice melted from her veins, eaten alive by a fury that threatened to consume her, too. She pulled the trigger, and didn't stop until she was forced to reload.

Everything blurred in her rage. She was aware of Beth and Maggie on either side of her, their wracking sobs drowning in gunfire. She was aware of several bullets missing her by inches, the heat of their passage. She was aware that in her vengeance she didn't care.

Her own death was secondary. She wanted blood.

It barely registered when the tank started moving, rolling over the fence like it was little more than paper. She kept shooting, robotic, felling several enemy soldiers before someone dragged her away.

"Mason, please! We gotta go!"

It was Beth, she realized, her voice distorted by tears. Mason looked at her, trying to decipher what she was saying.

"We gotta go!" she repeated. "We gotta get to the bus!"

The bus. Right. Escape.

Except Mason didn't want to escape. She yanked her arm out of Beth's grip and strode back the way they had come.

" _Mason_!"

"Get to the bus."

" _Not without you_!"

Mason whipped around. "Beth, you need to get everyone that you can on the bus. That's your job. We all have jobs to do."

She tossed Beth her gun and headed back into the fray.

It was a miracle that she made it back to the gun cart without getting hit. She grabbed a machine gun and hurried for cover, ducking as the tank fired a second time. Part of the wall collapsed, pelting her with debris. Dust choked her.

She ducked behind an upturned picnic table and unloaded on the invaders. Splinters of wood bit at her as they fired back but she never faltered.

Hershel was dead.

The man she could've called her father was dead.

Tears pricked her eyes but she wouldn't give in to them. She needed to see.

The tank rolled up past the final gate. It fired again, blowing out a window, showering her with glass. Mason kept pulling the trigger, neat and precise in spite of the whirlwind of agony.

A few yards away, Sasha, Bob and Maggie held their own behind one of the cars. Mason caught a glimpse of Tyreese fleeing from a volley of gunfire, ducking behind a row of potted plants. She couldn't see Rick. She couldn't see the Governor. She was about to go searching for them when the bus roared to life and drove away, sparking as gunshots pinged off its metal siding.

Mason sucked in a breath, but there was no time for the pain. Beth was safe. She would figure out the rest later.

The tank fired, destroying the catwalk in a burst of flame, and that's when she saw Daryl, fighting his way toward it. Grimly she leapt from her hiding place and maneuvered her way over, ducking from errant artillery, shooting back when she could see an enemy.

As she was reaching him, he pulled the pin from a grenade and tossed it down the muzzle of the tank gun. She ran into him, and he caught her by the arms and yanked her aside just as the grenade went off.

The guy who had been manning it watched it go up in flames. Mason pointed her gun at him. Whistled to get his attention.

He raised his arms in surrender, but there was no longer any room in her for pity.

She shot him in the mouth, just as she'd longed to only minutes before.

"Mason! Daryl!"

Mason turned, numb with shock, as that familiar voice punched a hole in her chest.

" _Beth_."

She held out her arms and Beth flew into them, wrapping her in a bruising embrace.

"What are you doing here?" Mason hissed. "I thought you were on the bus."

Beth assailed her with wild, teary eyes. "I got off to look for Judith, but I couldn't find her, and I didn't go back because I _couldn't_ leave without you, Mason, I _couldn't_."

Mason let the tears come then. They made feverish tracks through the dust and blood that shadowed her face.

"Beth, Mason."

They looked up at Daryl, who was watching the walkers as they streamed through the broken fences. Then he looked at them.

"We gotta go."

Grabbing Beth's hand, Mason followed Daryl as he led them around the back of the prison. Away from blood and dust and shadow.

She looked back only once, as they fled into the woods.

Their home was a pyre. Their yard was a graveyard.

The dead reclaimed everything.


	16. Mama's Gun

Hey, guys. So today's chapter title is a grim, Alice in Wonderland kind of song by Glass Animals called "Mama's Gun". It's a really cool song that I think perfectly sets the tone of this chapter. Anyway, please let me know what you think!

16\. Mama's Gun

" _In the summer_

 _took my gun_

 _and made him go to Neverland…_ "

They ran far and fast, in complete disregard of sore limbs and tears. Branches whipped them till they bled. Cannibal shadows hunted them. The prison faded but they could still see the smoke.

Mason kept moving for as long as she could, but eventually she collapsed. The sickness was gone, but she hadn't been given a chance to recover. Her lungs felt like they were bleeding all over again. Her throat was raw.

Daryl set up camp around her as much as he could with what little he could find. Beth sat next to her, staring mutely into the distance like she was seeing something else. Mason didn't have to ask to know what that something was. It kept replaying in her mind, too.

When she felt rested enough to return to her feet, Mason helped Daryl gather firewood. Something about the simple process of it, having something to do… It didn't make her feel better, but it cleared her mind a little.

They kept the fire low as the sun went down. Most of the walkers in the area had been drawn to the prison, but they didn't want to take the chance either way. The temperature dropped with the night's arrival. Beth and Mason curled up against a tree, watching regretfully as the flames dwindled into embers. Daryl kept watch, sometimes hovering near their tree, sometimes pacing back and forth. In spite of her exhaustion, Mason never slept. She couldn't stand to close her eyes.

Beth woke just before dawn but she didn't move. She lay in Mason's lap, staring up at the steel-blue sky, and Mason didn't dare disturb her until the sun pierced the leaves.

Numbly she kissed the crown of Beth's head and stood up. Her head reeled but her body was restless. She needed something to do. The night had passed too slowly, trapping her with her thoughts, and she needed desperately to move.

Daryl grabbed her arm as she passed him, hard enough to hurt. He eyed her silently.

Quietly, she said, "Hunting." Her voice was a stranger's voice.

When he made to follow, she pressed a hand to his chest and growled, " _No._ "

His eyes narrowed. "You ain't goin' out there alone."

"You're not leaving Beth alone."

He looked about to argue, but obviously thought better of it. Chewing agitatedly on his lip, he strode back to their makeshift camp. She was alone.

She set to work immediately, wasting no time in constructing a trap, one of the ones Daryl taught her nearly a year ago. It kept her busy, and she let her thoughts be consumed by the simple, physical act of it. When she was finished, all too soon, she hunkered down nearby to wait.

She'd forgotten how loud silence could be.

It took less time than she thought it would to snare a rabbit, but it felt to her like several eternities. Eternities in which her mind spun in the same gruesome circle, playing the same images over and over until she felt the looming winter of insanity.

Hershel was gone. The prison was gone. Her family, nearly all the people she loved…

Her breath caught sharply, her lungs and stomach burned, and only then did she become aware of the tears blurring her vision.

She tried to blink them away, but they were urgent, violent, like an entire ocean had built up behind her eyes. Curling in on herself, mouth wide in a silent wail, she let the pain have her.

She didn't make a sound. She couldn't afford to. The agony of keeping silent nearly cracked her in half.

Hershel was gone.

The prison was gone.

Her family…

 _But Beth is alive. And Daryl. You have to keep them safe. That is all that matters now. That's all that's left._

This thought was the only thing that brought her back to some semblance of sanity. And when she returned to Beth and Daryl with the rabbit, her face was a perfect, emotionless mask.

~m~

They gathered empty cans from a dumpster behind a gas station. The building itself was empty, and looked as though it had been long before the world fell apart. There was nothing else to scavenge aside from some worn twine and a handful of strawberries growing under the window.

By the glow of another low fire, they strung up cans to cordon their campsite. They split strawberries in the twilight and watched the sparks live out there microscopic lives against a stage of black.

They didn't talk about what happened. It was all they saw when they looked at each other, and even that was too much.

~m~

The third day began with mind-numbing sameness. They sat watching each other as the sun came up, oblivious to the chill. No one bothered to stoke the anemic fire. No one complained as a handful of insipid green pecans was passed around for breakfast. Mason traced the edges of her iPod, her headphones, but the usual desire to slip them on was gone from her.

Eventually Daryl stood, hefting his crossbow over his shoulder. Mason and Beth blinked at him.

"Hunting," he growled by way of explanation.

When he had gone, the silence pressed in just a little more. Like water, filling his absence. Mason watched the wind tease the trees, appraising the flicker of every shadow for any sign of unexpected company.

"When Daryl gets back, we should start searchin'."

It took Mason a moment to realize that Beth had spoken, that it wasn't her mind playing tricks.

It took a second longer to process her words, but she asked the question anyway.

"Search for what?"

"The others."

Mason looked at her, and was surprised at the steadiness in her eyes. The conviction.

"Beth…"

"Don't."

It was there in her voice, too. That steel. It was the sharpened point of a sword.

"Don't tell me they're not alive. We don't know that. And I won't believe it."

Mason sighed, exhausted before the words were out of her mouth.

"We don't know that they _are_. We can't…we can't go running off in search of a maybe."

"How can you _say_ that? My _sister_ is out there. If there's even a chance she's still alive I won't stop lookin'."

Mason's heart throbbed with agony. The air dragged in her lungs. She couldn't think about this, she didn't want to. She couldn't stand maybes.

"Beth, we got out. You, me and Daryl, that is all that matters now. We have to-"

" _No!_ "

In spite of herself, Mason flinched. Beth glared at her with unwavering ferocity.

"That's bullshit and you know it! You're scared? So am I. That's part of carin' about people. You promised me you wouldn't disappear again. That hasn't changed."

"It has."

"It hasn't-"

" _It has._ "

Now Mason was seething, too, her hands shaking, her stomach surging with anger. She took a shuddering breath, blinking as her vision blurred.

"We _escaped_. You, me and Daryl. And now that is all that matters, and I will do anything I have to to keep you two safe, I will give up _every part_ of me to do that, because I _cannot fucking lose you_. I _won't._ "

She was burning with rage, burning with agony, but she wasn't too far gone to feel it when Beth wrapped her arms around her. She shuddered into the embrace, submitting to her wrenching sobs. Beth pressed her lips to Mason's ear and whispered, soft and insistent.

"I know you're scared, Mason. But this isn't like before. It isn't _._ And you won't lose us. I promise I'm not goin' anywhere. But…we can't just sit here like everythin' is over, because it isn't. Until I see otherwise, Maggie is alive. Glenn is alive. Rick, Michonne, Carl, they're all waitin' for us. It isn't like before. It isn't over."

It took a while. They clung to each other, exchanging tears, heavy in their shared grief.

But they weren't alone. There was that.

At some point, when the tears ran dry, Mason offered Beth a smile. It was hollow and tired, but it was there.

"I'm going to find Daryl. Will you be alright here for a minute?"

Beth rolled her eyes. "You taught me how to protect myself. I think I'll be just fine."

"If you run into any trouble, fire your gun. I'll come running."

Tracking Daryl was simple. All those lessons he'd given her paid off when she found him just a few minutes away from the campsite. Ignoring his glare, she leaned up against a tree and, after a moment, he relaxed next to her.

They were silent for a while. Mason watched the trees and twirled her headphone cord.

"Beth wants to start looking for the others," she finally said. "I don't know…if we'll find anyone. But she wants to try, and I'm going to help her."

Daryl looked at her, all of her own doubts clear in his eyes, and once again she felt that terrible kinship between them. That grim understanding.

"You and I both know how it is out here," she continued. "I'm going to stay alive to keep her alive. To keep you alive. But… If anything happens, you keep her safe. No matter what."

Daryl tensed. "We're keepin' each other safe," he growled.

"For as long as we can," Mason agreed. "But it can't be her. If something happens… It can't be her. You promise me that if I'm not around-"

" _You will be_."

"If I'm not around, you keep her safe. Promise me."

Without responding, Daryl pushed off from the tree and began pacing back and forth, teeth worrying the inside of his lip. Mason watched him patiently, and didn't flinch when he whipped around, eyes blazing, and jabbed his finger in her direction.

"I ain't promisin' shit. We're gonna protect each other _together_ ," he spat.

"Daryl."

"Don't. Just don't."

He strode off, everything about his posture screaming _angry_. Mason followed him slowly, keeping her eyes out for walkers, her ears peeled for the report of a gun. Neither came. They returned to camp with two squirrels and a handful of riper pecans.

~m~

Sitting around the fire that night, each of them sensed a change in the other. Something had broken- it was a return of feeling for better or worse- so it didn't seem out of place when Mason placed the headphones gently over Beth's ears and pressed play.

The song was a promise as much as it was a comfort, and they smiled as they mouthed the words to each other.

" _No grave can hold my body down,_

 _I'll crawl home to her._ "

Daryl watched them, his expression unreadable. When Mason caught his eye, he got to his feet and disappeared into the dark.

She sighed and looked up through the branches to the stars. He needed time, just like she had. She might not make it, and she was well aware of this, but it would be unacceptable if Beth didn't. She would not let that happen, and Daryl would come to see that. He was her best friend.

A sudden rustling in the woods caught her attention, far off but moving toward them quickly. As it honed in on their campsite, Mason scrambled to her feet, drawing her gun. Startled, Beth yanked the headphones down around her neck.

"What's goin' on?"

Daryl appeared before Mason could answer, leaping over their barrier of clatter cans with his crossbow drawn.

"It's a herd. We gotta go," he hissed.

Mason reached for Beth and pulled her to her feet, just as the snarling horde reached the barrier.

The first wave tangled in the strings but the second trampled them into the ground. Mason, Daryl and Beth escaped by inches, sneaking hurriedly through the dark. They had no hope of making it very far, however, as more walkers surged out of the trees from their chosen direction.

"Back. _Back_ ," Daryl said, and now Mason took the lead, cleaving a path through their pursuers, back in the direction of their overrun camp.

Her mind whirled, lost in a panic. Where did they think they could go now, surrounded as they were? How did they ever think they could fight this off? Still, she fought, slashing her fire poker with practiced skill, listening behind her to make sure Beth and Daryl stayed close.

It happened in a confusion of snarling and clustered limbs.

A pocket of walkers surrounded Mason, snapping at her from all sides. In a desperate attempt to free herself, she crouched down and jabbed her iron up through the abdomen of one of them, forcing it back. Drenching her with viscera, it tumbled like a felled tree and she rolled with it. And Beth's hand slipped from hers.

Cursing, she clambered to her feet. She had made it all the way back to the camp. The fire still burned, and walkers still struggled in the mess of clatter cans, the noise of them drawing more and more. A steady stream of them shambled in front of her, discounting her gore-addled scent in favor of fresher meat.

When her eyes fell on Beth and Daryl, a pitiful island shrinking in a surge of dead bodies, the world slowed.

Her pulse narrowed to a steady meter, loud in her ears, engulfing other sounds. Beth called her name, but she heard it only distantly. Looping her poker over one shoulder, she drew two burning branches from the fire and faced the walkers.

" _Hey! Over here! Hey!_ "

One by one, the horde turned, mesmerized by her waving torches. In a matter of seconds, the tides turned and there was no more time. Mason looked over the heads of the walkers and shouted.

" _Daryl!_ "

His eyes met hers then, and there was that terrible understanding, flooded with so much grief Mason felt her own limbs weighed down by it.

She didn't need to say another word. There was no more time.

Daryl grabbed Beth by the arm. Mason caught a last glimpse of her frantic face and then it was time to run.

The walkers followed dutifully like a school of fish. She stayed only far enough ahead that they would not catch her. Her breathing was even and strong. She knew she could run all night if she had to.

When she'd led them a safe distance away, she broke into a sprint, arcing around them back the way they had come. She'd done her job, she'd kept Beth and Daryl safe, and now her heart seized its opportunity to anguish.

The clamor of snared walkers greeted her at the campsite. She dispatched them with vigor, calling for Beth and Daryl as she finished.

No one called back.

Mason hurried to the spot where she had last seen them. It took a little time to pick their footprints out from the mess the horde had left, but eventually she found them. Heart hammering, she followed their tracks through the woods, using her torches to light the way. As she moved, she hissed their names into the dark, hoping for a reply that never came.

She stopped when she came to a place where the undergrowth was trampled, fouled by the unmistakable shambling marks of walkers. Blood soaked the ground. Whatever footprints Beth and Daryl had left had drowned in the churned mud.

Frantically she turned in circles, searching till her eyes burned from the strain.

But the trail was gone.

Gone like it had never been.

~m~

" _In the summer silence,_

 _I was getting violent._

 _In the summer silence,_

 _I was doing nothing._ "


	17. In the Cold I'm Standing

The title song is "In the Cold I'm Standing" by M83 (arguably one of the best artists in the world, IMHO).

17\. Interim: In the Cold I'm Standing

She ran until she no longer cold, alone and numb. Her breath frosted the air, glowing by the light of the moon. She knew where she was, she knew she shouldn't have come, but her feet had brought her here anyway.

The fire had died in the prison. Its broken windows stared blackly at her, vacant as jack-o-lantern eyes. She was reminded idly of that poem, about the abyss and how it stares back at you. How it changes you.

She stood heaving for breath in the yard where she had planted crops, where she'd sat with her family and a picnic of food that they'd harvested themselves, where she'd kissed Beth's mouth and trembled with the desire to kiss other places. But those memories were a warmth long gone, a summer she could no longer reach.

Walkers milled around her. They did not pay her any attention. She was covered in gore, abysmal with it. She was one of them again.

She turned in aimless circles, desperate for something she could not name. At each turn she wished, hoped, _prayed_ for Beth, for Daryl, for _anyone_. But there was no one. She had lost everything, again.

Then her eyes found the moon.

Permanent. Ghostly. Sentinel.

She stared for a time she lost track of. For lifetimes. Its beautiful face, and all it had come to mean over the years.

At some point, it started staring back.

Infinitesimally, her posture changed. Her muscles hardened, her blood smoldered. Her face evened into something pure, her eyes drained of everything that didn't further her new resolve.

 _It isn't like before. It isn't over._

No. It wasn't.

~m~

In the woods beyond, unseen, a pair of eyes watched Mason with fascination. With delight. With malice.

Here was a recognizable face. Here a face that embodied home, safety, warmth.

Here was a face that needed dimming. _Carving_.

Soon. The time wasn't right, but it would be.

The eyes closed and disappeared.

NOTE: Okay, so this isn't really an interim in the sense that I'm taking a break from this story or anything (I'm not planning on it, at least). But I really wanted this moment with Mason at the prison to stand apart from the previous chapter. It just felt stronger on its own. Anyway, as always, let me know what you think.


	18. Pork Soda

Alright, guys, it's a bit of an angsty chapter, hope it's not too terrible. In all seriousness, I'm gonna have a trigger warning for it (suicidal thoughts) although I don't think that will come as too much of a surprise considering Mason's previous battles with depression. On a lighter note, thank you so much for your reviews! They keep me inspired. Today's chapter title is "Pork Soda" by the wonderful, incomparable Glass Animals. It is an AMAZING song and you should listen to it sometime. Anyway, hope you enjoy, let me know what you think.

18\. Pork Soda

" _Pineapples are in my head…_ "

~m~

There were days when Mason rose with the sun, to sharpen her knife and the end of her iron over wet rocks, to run until she couldn't breathe and then push herself even further, to set up traps around wherever she was calling camp. She rarely stayed in one spot for longer than a day, long enough to scour her surroundings for tracks. There were never any aside from those of the typical fauna- deer, squirrels, rabbits, walkers.

Then there were days when the pain overwhelmed her, when the despair crimped her like a withering leaf and every breath was a fight in its own right.

Today it was the latter. As soon as she opened her eyes she knew it. The forest was grim, the overcast sky tinting everything gray. She breathed in and felt her whole body wilt.

She lay there on her bed of leaf mulch all morning, unmoving. Still. The forest was silent as though out of respect. As though in mourning. She didn't cry. She hadn't cried since that first night without Beth and Daryl. But sometimes she wished she could.

A little after noon, hunger roused her out of her stupor. There was a very loud, very adamant part of her that maintained that there was no point to eating. Everything had been taken from her, and everything always would. But she was able to drown it out with the rage, the vivid winter that completed her. It had driven her this far. She would continue to let it.

She caught a bird with the bow and arrow she'd fashioned and cooked it over a sullen fire. It was tough and small, but it gave her enough energy to get to work on the traps.

They were basic hunting traps, modified to catch larger prey. She used scavenged rope to construct them. She took the time to make them right. They were strong enough to hold a great deal of struggling. When she was done with each one, she cut her palm and scented the trap with her blood.

At the completion of the fifth and final noose, she hesitated. The rope was rough in her hands, grimy from previous use. It hung now from a stout tree branch, forlorn and grim against the backdrop of the darkened woods.

She studied it for a long time, riveted by the shape of it. When Daryl had first started teaching her his hunting methods he had been surprised by her aptitude for tying nooses. She'd fallen silent, ashamed to tell him that she'd done it before. But of course when she'd looked up, his eyes had been soft with understanding. She hadn't had to say a word.

Silent now, she balanced herself on her toes, lifted the noose and hooked it gently, gently around her neck. She held her arms out at her sides like a bird taking flight and closed her eyes.

She tamed her breathing. She didn't move. She could do it. She could sever everything, absolutely everything, right now. It took tremendous strength not to. She was afraid, but in complete control.

A distant snarling woke her slowly from her trance. Her eyes opened, unhurried and frigid. She lifted the noose from her neck and patiently completed her trap before heading for the sound.

The walker kicked and struggled against the rope around its neck. At the sight of her, it revitalized its efforts, enough so that the twine impaled its flesh.

Leisurely she wrapped her hands with torn cloth and tied them off at the wrists. Then she stood, breathed out, and began.

The walker was fresher than some of the others she'd captured, and stood up longer against her well-aimed blows. Her fists moved rhythmically, interspersed with kicks that became more and more limber with each session. By the time she'd worn down to its bones, her muscles burned. She dispatched the walker and checked the rest of her traps.

She'd caught two others, not bad for half a day spent wallowing. She followed the same procedure with these, utilizing them as her own personal punching bags before stabbing them in the head.

Back at camp, she added pine needles to a tin of hot water and ignored her grumbling stomach. She leaned her back against a tree and sipped her tea, relishing the ache of her overworked limbs. Despite the unreliability of her meals, she was getting stronger. She could feel it each day, in direction proportion to the cold fury brewing in her belly.

She fell asleep mechanically that night. There was no gentleness about it, no drifting or dreams. Just the disciplined closing of eyes and darkness.

~m~

Determined to cover as much ground as possible, she moved on early the next morning. She stopped midday to eat from a can of watery corn. She traveled parallel to the highway but always within the shadow of the trees.

She saw no tracks, no evidence that another living person had passed by.

By the time she chose a new camp, night was descending. She tried her luck at hunting but came back empty-handed. She decided against fumbling with her traps in the dark. Instead she climbed into the gloomy nest of a tree, hung by her hands from a sturdy branch and pulled herself up again.

Four chin-ups in, she paused at a familiar sound.

The walkers converged quickly, zeroing in on her dangling feet, ten in all. Jaw set, eyes blazing, she completed her fifth chin-up as the dead ones pawed at her legs. Then she swung forward and leapt from the tree.

One of the walkers cushioned her fall. Her feet sunk deep into its belly. She rolled with the impact, dragging intestines after her, and turned to stab it in the head.

The other walkers snarled their frustration and stumbled after their prey. Mason held her iron at the ready and waited, her whole body a live wire with anticipation.

As they descended she burst into movement, steered by the graceful strokes of her weapon. Her face was a mask of bleak satisfaction. She relished the warm splash of their blood, the thud as their bodies hit the ground. She was almost disappointed when there were no more left.

~m~

Mason startled awake the next morning, yanked from a dreamless sleep by a sound she could hardly believe she was hearing. She sat up breathlessly among the roots of a tree and listened.

It wasn't her ears playing tricks. It was the growl of an oncoming vehicle.

She scrambled to her feet as the noise drew closer and sprinted toward the edge of the trees. A green behemoth barreled past before she was halfway there. By the time her shoes hit the pavement it was already disappearing up the highway.

She stood for a moment in the middle of the road, watching the leaves settle as the breeze from the truck's passage died. Her mind was a wind storm, tossing thoughts around like leaves of its own.

There was no way of knowing who was on that truck, no way of knowing who was driving it. It could very well be someone she wouldn't want to meet.

Or it could be Beth. It could be Daryl. It could be Maggie or Glenn or Rick or Michonne or Sasha or Tyreese.

She couldn't risk not finding out. She darted back into the trees.

Hastily she gathered up the old bedsheet she'd been using as a blanket and headed for the place where she'd dumped the walker bodies. Dragging one out, she gutted it with her fire poker, then covered the sheet in its viscera until it reeked. The nights were getting warmer. She could find another sheet if she needed to.

She draped the fouled sheet over her head. A bit of twine tied around the neck turned the ensemble into an effective cloak. She needed to travel quickly, without the distraction of fending off walkers. This would have to do.

The journey put her months of conditioning to the test. She ran without stopping, steady but quick, keeping the highway on her left shoulder. Walkers ignored her like she'd hoped, put off by her dead scent. She lost track of time as the sun moved with her, across the sky.

It was around noon when she saw the car, parked at the side of the road. She flitted toward it and ducked into the driver's side, hotwiring it in record time. It grumbled reluctantly to life. She glanced at the fuel gauge and cursed, but a quarter of a tank was better than nothing.

~m~

When the gas ran out, she hopped out of the car and started running again. It was only a little past noon. She was making good time, but she was losing hope of catching the truck.

Half an hour later, the trees came to an end, bordering the golden expanse of a cornfield. She ran on without pause, though the dried leaves cut at her face. From here she could no longer see the highway, so she kept the sun on her left instead.

Gunshots brought her up short.

She paused in a straggle of walkers, who all turned toward the sound. Her iron was in her hand in a second. Heart fluttering, she took off toward the sound.

Her stomach clenched with nervous anticipation as the truck came into view above the cornstalks. She skidded out of the field and onto the edge of the highway, eyes flickering to take in the scene before her.

Her first thought was _mullet_. The man standing by the truck sported an impressive one, as well as a vest with an excess of pockets and a large automatic weapon.

Her second thought was _idiot,_ as he clearly did not know how to use said weapon. He fired haphazardly at the walkers emerging from the cornfield, backing away with a panicked expression.

She almost turned away. She was so disappointed by the sight of this clumsy stranger that she very nearly left him to his fate.

But as she was turning away she caught another glimpse of his face, and somewhere amid the storm of her ceaseless ire a part of her softened.

"Fucking Christ."

Barreling through the horde, she ran her poker through the skull of the walker closest to him. Its blood splattered the back of his neck and he turned.

Their eyes met. His widened with shock. Hers narrowed with exasperation.

"Move, dumbass."

He obliged in a daze, backing up against the truck to give her room. She whirled back and forth in front of him, cutting down walkers as they came. More and more of them emerged from the field, but she felt only a grim satisfaction at being outnumbered.

Then suddenly there were gunshots, and walkers collapsing all around her, and she thought maybe Mullet Guy had gotten a clue until a group of people flanked her. In the brief respite, she caught Mullet Guy staring at her with something like awe. She threw him a look of pure scorn in return.

Everyone waited a moment as the smoke cleared, guns raised in case there were more headed for them. But when it was clear the only rustle among the corn was that of the wind, they all turned to look at Mason.

She tensed, glaring suspiciously at each of them.

A tall, muscular man hovered closest to her, his ginger hair and beard spotted with walker blood. On her other side a pretty woman with dark pigtails returned her glare.

"Mason?"

She turned suddenly at the familiar voice, unable to believe it was really him. But there he was, decked out in riot gear from the prison. Her knees wobbled.

"Glenn." She stumbled over and wrapped her arms around him.

"Oh my god, I can't believe it," he murmured. "You made it."

She just nodded, too choked with disbelief to make a sound. She was dimly aware of the strangers around her, that one of them had crawled under the truck and was cursing rather creatively. Apparently the behemoth was out of commission.

Mason opened her eyes and saw a fifth person standing a little ways off, looking severely uncomfortable.

Her spine went rigid as she recognized the girl from the prison, the one who had stood with the Governor.

Sensing the change in her posture, Glenn pulled away and followed her death stare to the girl.

"Uh, Mason, this is Tara. She's helping me look for Maggie." Suddenly he grabbed her arms, his expression wild with hope. "Have you seen her?"

Mason swallowed and shook her head. "I'm sorry."

Glenn's eyes dimmed. "Did you make it out alone, or…?"

"No. I was with Beth and Daryl at first…"

She trailed off as the anguish seized her throat, scorching her words to ash. Glenn's face pinched with pain.

"Are they-"

"No," she cut in fiercely. "We were separated by a herd and I didn't see what happened. They're alive until I see otherwise."

She thought Glenn might try to argue, talk some sense into her, but he just nodded. That light was returning to his eyes.

"We'd be safer together," he said. "And maybe Beth and Daryl have found some of the others. Maybe they've found Maggie. You should come with us."

It was her best shot at finding them, Mason knew it. And in truth, now that she had found another member of her scattered family, she didn't want to let him out of her sight.

So she nodded. "Okay. But you'll have to introduce me to your new friends."

Glenn frowned. "Hold that thought."

Mason watched him stride over to the big redhead and hand over his semi-automatic.

"Good luck. I hope you make it to Washington."

 _Washington? What the hell is in Washington?_

But Mason kept her mouth shut, following Glenn to a backpack lying in the middle of the road. Tara trailed after them and Mason narrowed her eyes. Did Glenn know that she'd been at the prison? What was this girl's motive? Was she some sort of _spy_?

Before her paranoia reached an apex, the redhead called out.

"Wait!"

Glenn looked up at the sky as if appealing to God, and then turned around. Redhead and Pigtails converged on them, and Mason stared them down without flinching. She tried to ignore the fact that Mullet Guy kept looking at her, but it was making her self-conscious.

"Don't make me hit you again, man," Glenn said and instantly Mason tensed, ready for a fight. _Eager_ for it.

"I'd be happy to exchange blows with you, partner, but if you will remember I am on a tight schedule," Redhead said. "Now we can help each other."

"No. _I_ can help _you_. You've already made it clear that you think my wife's dead. Didn't my right hook make it pretty clear what _I_ think?"

Redhead's nostrils flared, like a bull ramping up to skewer his next victim. Mason felt her blood boil in response. She stepped in front of Glenn and stared the redhead down, her expression an obvious challenge. Though he towered over her, she felt no fear. She _wanted_ to fight.

"I don't know what you think you're gonna accomplish, Little Miss Riding Hood, but it'd be best if you step out of the way and let the men talk."

He was goading her, and she knew it. He wanted to fight, too. Her fingers twitched into a fist. She was a heartbeat from taking the bait when Mullet Guy stepped between them. He pointed in the direction Glenn wanted to go.

"That way's clear. Who knows what's north. We'll find another vehicle, we'll go with them until we do."

Redhead stared in disbelief. Mullet Guy just smirked.

"Trust me. I'm smarter than you."

Mason blinked, exchanging a glance with Glenn. He looked uncertain, and the redhead looked uncertain right back at him, but finally he nodded.

"Okay. I'll get the bags from the truck."

Mason was floored. Just like that? He gave in just like that to a man who couldn't aim a fucking gun? While Redhead climbed into the bed of the truck, she turned back to Glenn.

"Who are these people?" she murmured.

Glenn pointed to Pigtails, whose expression was still sour. "That's Rosita. The big, cuddly guy is Abraham. And that's Eugene."

"And why do they want to get to Washington so bad?"

"Because Eugene is a scientist. And he knows how to fix all this."

Mason was silent for a few seconds. Then she scowled, incredulous, at Eugene with his mullet and vest and his too-many pockets.

" _Him_?"

"I didn't want to believe it, either," Glenn said. "And right now, I can't think about it. I need to find Maggie and you need to find Beth. We can think about it then."

Mason nodded, but her face stayed fixed in a frown. She didn't like these strangers and she didn't want them around. But there didn't seem to be any other choice.

She and Glenn took the lead, with Tara a few feet behind. Their three new friends shadowed them.

~m~

" _…got nobody, 'cause I'm braindead._ "


	19. Goodbye, Apathy

Okay, first thing's first: thank you so much to all my reviewers and readers. I would PM you each with my thanks but I don't want to spam you, so here will have to do lol. Anyway, today's chapter I don't think is as dark as the last so I chose a song that's melancholy but not with not-quite-total despair, if that makes sense? It's OneRepublic's "Goodbye, Apathy" from their debut (and arguably best) album. I'm really excited with some of the things I have planned for the next few chapters and I really hope you enjoy them! Let me know what you think.

19\. Goodbye, Apathy

" _I can't sleep, no, not like I used to,_

 _I can't breathe in and out like I need to,_

 _it's breaking ice now to make any movement._

 _What's your vice? You know that mine's the illusion._ "

~m~

She didn't talk much, not even to Glenn. That first day with him and her new companions was nearly as silent as her time spent alone. Her relief at finding him faded quickly in the wake of her situation- that she still had not found Beth or Daryl, that she now had Eugene to look out for (much as she resented it), and that she could not for the life of her remember how to feel like a human being.

It scared her when she thought too much about it. The return of the Governor, the loss of the prison, the division of her family… Hell, even being without her music. All of this had fractured something deep within her, that it seemed only rage could fill.

 _It will change when you find Beth,_ she thought, but would it? Even with Beth and Daryl, the fire in her heart had muted everything.

 _It will change when you find the rest of your family,_ she thought, but she knew this, too, was a lie. Whatever had happened felt deeply permanent. Even if she could find the others, even if she found _all_ of them, things could never go back to how they were.

This realization became too much to bear that first night, after Abraham pointed out in his colorful way that if they didn't rest for a while "their asses would drag fat tracks in the ground tomorrow". Once the others were settled, Mason slipped away, determined to beat her anxiety into submission if that was what it took.

She ran, lithe on her feet, ears always open for the sound of walkers. She met none, which bitterly disappointed her, but the exercise did her some good anyway. She didn't feel cured when she returned to camp, but she felt better.

She settled down some distance away from the others. Glenn brooded by the fire, staring down at the photo in his hand, the only picture he had of Maggie. Tara lay next to him with her arms behind her head, staring up at the trees like only they could provide an answer which she desperately sought. Rosita and Abraham were sitting watch at either end of the camp. Which only left…

"I think you should drink some water."

Mason jumped at the sound of Eugene, who had appeared seemingly out of nowhere on her right. Furious at herself for letting her guard down, she threw him a vicious glare.

He paused at her look of pure loathing with his hand outstretched. It was only then that she saw the water bottle he offered, and she felt a flicker of guilt, which only pissed her off more.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. "Can I inquire as to where you went?" he said in that strange, monotone southern accent. "I only ask because even with the illumination of a half-moon, our current inhospitable surroundings are as such because there are shadows at every turn, and perils within said shadows. Also, because I have a natural curiosity."

Mason stared. Never in her life had she heard anyone talk in such a way, and it momentarily distracted her from her ire. Still, she said nothing, and Eugene began to look uncomfortable.

"Can I sit next to you? You don't have to talk if you don't want. I guess it's probably best to keep quiet anyway, given the sword that's dangling over our collective heads."

But Mason didn't say a word, and continued to glower at him until he turned awkwardly to leave.

When he was gone, she let herself relax. But sleep didn't come easily that night, and when it did she dreamed of horrors she couldn't remember the next morning.

~m~

She ran a few laps while the others were eating breakfast, killing four walkers along the way. When she returned there was a water bottle sitting at the place where she'd slept. There was a brief, childish moment in which she was tempted to reject it. In the end she drank, studiously ignoring the person she was sure had left it for her.

Mason let Glenn take the lead while she scouted, ranging from one side of the road to the other. She was restless. It felt like burning, staying in one spot for too long.

There was always someone walking with Eugene, guarding him. Rosita, Abraham and Tara rotated. Mason avoided all of them.

They made good time until they came to a curve in the road, and the horde of walkers that milled across it. Glenn and Mason pulled to a halt. The others gathered around them.

"Well, fuck-stick." That, of course, was Abraham.

"We'll have to go around," Glenn said.

"Yeah, but how far?" Rosita said. "We don't know how many are in that herd."

"Maybe we could lure them out?" Tara suggested. "Throw rocks or something? To see if there are any more."

It was Glenn who saw the look in Mason's eyes, the rigidness of her stance. He gave her a warning glance, but her knuckles only whitened around her fire poker.

"Mason, don't. We'll find another way."

But she couldn't tear her eyes away from the walkers, and she couldn't stop her blood from burning, and she couldn't stop herself from taking a step forward.

" _Mason_."

Glenn grabbed her arm but she shook him off. There came another protest, from somewhere behind her, but she barely heard him. She was already running.

She hit the crowd at full speed, ripping through two of them at once. Her poker swung violently, beautifully, spraying the air with red. There were so many walkers, there were _too_ many and she was surrounded, but she was not afraid, she was _gleeful_ , _ecstatic_ , and-

Blood showered her neck and shoulder. She turned to see Abraham taking up a place on her right side, and Glenn on her left. Her jaw clenched.

" _I've got this_ ," she hissed.

"Don't think so, sister," Abraham replied, ramming the butt of his gun into a walker's nose. There was a grin on his face, and a glint in his eyes that was downright jovial.

Mason whirled around him, jabbing through two walkers at the same time. She kicked them away, knocking over a third in the process, and Abraham laughed. She found herself grinning in response, although it felt more like a baring of teeth.

The walkers thinned quickly after that until there were no more left. Mason, Glenn and Abraham were silent for a moment, examining the carnage. Then Glenn whirled on Mason.

"What the hell was that?" he said. "You could've gotten yourself killed."

"I was taking care of it," she replied.

" _That_ was taking care of it? Rushing in like an idiot without a plan, without backup?"

"It was about as stupid as a squirrel dangling its ass over a doghouse," Abraham agreed. But when he looked at her, she saw a gleam of respect.

It took everything to put a damper on her temper, but when she did she said, "The way's clear now. We should keep moving."

They carried on, Mason taking the lead this time. She could feel Glenn stewing behind her but she didn't acknowledge him. She knew just how stupid she'd been to pull such a stunt and she couldn't find it in herself to care. She was reckless with rage. It led her like a dog on a leash.

They carried on late into the evening, until they spotted a thick cluster of trees just off the road and Rosita insisted they stop.

"We won't find a better place, and we can't keep wandering through the dark when we're all dead on our feet," she said.

Mason curled her lip at her bossy tone but said nothing.

Tara took first watch while Glenn heated a can of black beans for their dinner. He smiled a little at Mason over the fire.

"It's your favorite."

Mason offered him a smirk in return. A peace offering.

After dinner, she settled herself a distance away from the others, just like the night before. She was glad to have Glenn back, more than she could possibly say, but without Beth and Daryl she felt disconnected. A magnet repelled by the proximity of another.

Eugene approached some time later but didn't speak. She glared straight ahead, making it clear that she meant to ignore him, until he left.

When she finally broke her determined stare, she realized that he had left another water bottle next to her.

~m~

The next day was sweltering. Mason returned from her morning run covered in sweat, and went immediately to the bottle Eugene had left her.

Everyone was cranky, and grew tenser as the heat rose. By midday their feet dragged on the pavement.

"We should walk in the woods," Tara suggested. "It's cooler there."

Rosita nodded. "We need to refill on water anyway. Maybe there's a creek nearby."

Nobody protested. They all rushed gratefully for the shade of the trees.

Once underneath the lazy canopy, Mason led Abraham, Glenn and Eugene in search of water. When Abraham demanded where in damn hell she thought she was going, Glenn said simply that she knew how to find it. Neither of them mentioned Daryl, but his name hung heavy between them.

It didn't take long for Mason to spot a deer trail. She knelt to examine it.

"What is it that you're looking for?" Eugene asked, which earned him an are-you-serious look.

He amended, "What is it that you look for when searching for water in a wilderness such as this?"

Stifling a sigh, she waved him closer and pointed at the prints in the soil.

"Tracks," he said. "It does make sense. Ninety-eight percent of my experience with forests consists of the abrupt and frightening foray of the past year. The two percent before that were the unhappy and subsequently rare occasions when I got lost. Less frightening than now, I'll admit, but it did leave a sizeable scar in my ego. I am not a woodsman by any stretch of the imagination."

Mason rolled her eyes. _That's obvious._

They found the stream just a few yards away, gurgling cheerfully over jagged slate rocks. The water was clear and cool. After splashing a bit of it on her neck and face, Mason took up watch on the slope opposite while the others filled the bottles.

A spot of red at the bottom of the hill caught her eye. Strawberries, she thought. After a moment's hesitation she started toward it.

She whipped around at the rustle of heavy footsteps. Eugene raised his hands in immediate surrender. She seethed at him for a moment in silence and then he spoke.

"My apologies. I just thought it best if we don't split up. Safety in numbers and all that. I was-"

Mason leapt at him before he could finish, knocking him out of the way seconds before a walker could clamp its teeth in his throat. Together, the two of them tumbled down the hill. Just before they reached the bottom, Mason crashed painfully into a tree and Eugene crashed painfully into her.

" _Fuck nuts_ ," she gasped.

"Are you okay?"

"Just peachy. Get down."

Eugene ducked obediently, allowing Mason to lean over him with her fire poker outstretched. The walker half-slid, half-collapsed into it, its chest rupturing easily. It continued to snap at them, doggedly swiping its arms.

From close by came the snarl of another walker, and another.

"Get up. _Get up._ "

Eugene crawled out from under her as she yanked her iron free. From their left, a stream of dead ones appeared and cut across their path. Mason grabbed his arm and shoved him deeper into the woods.

They moved quick, darting in and out of trees, trying to find a clear path back to the stream. But another gaggle of walkers lurked in the distance, as yet unaware of their presence. Mason's teeth clamped together. Signaling Eugene to stay quiet, she shoved him under a thorn bush, then crouched over him as she covered them both in leaf litter.

The smell of rotten foliage was enough to choke her and- she hoped- enough to hide their scent.

The walkers approached fast, clearly fresher ones. Her heart thundered violently enough that she was sure Eugene could feel it. Briefly she looked down to find him staring back, eyes wide with fear. She narrowed hers, a grim reminder to keep his mouth shut.

Then the walkers were there, shuffling past so close the thorns rattled. Eugene screwed his eyes shut, his fingers clinching- for the first time, Mason noticed they were knotted in the back of her shirt. Her lips thinned with tension but she kept absolutely still, absolutely silent.

A few breathless moments later, the walkers had disappeared. Mason let out a breath and sagged against Eugene's chest.

" _EUGENE!_ "

At the sound of Abraham's shout they both jolted, scrambling to their feet and effectively bedecking themselves in thorns.

" _Shit_ ," she said, and shared a worried glance with Eugene.

"They're gonna rally every cold corpse in the state."

Once again, she found herself grabbing his arm. "C'mon."

They hurried back the way they'd come, and met Abraham and Glenn barreling through the trees.

"Is he hurt?" Abraham thundered.

"Just a few thorns is all. It's superficial, really," Eugene answered shakily.

Abraham checked him anyway. When he'd seen for himself that Eugene wasn't about to die he turned on Mason with a fearsome expression.

"What in Satan's pit of shit were you thinking? Do you not understand the gravity of our current situation? Do you need me to spell it out for you? _That man must stay alive._ "

Mason's blood surged, stoked by the threat in his voice. "And I _kept_ him alive. If it weren't for me, he'd have a throatful of incisors right now."

"That is true," Eugene spoke up. "Mason is the reason I'm still here, alive and reasonably well."

For a moment, Abraham refused to be reasoned with. He fumed like a chimney stack, his face nearly as red as his hair. Mason waited, avid for him to make a move.

"Hey." Glenn stepped between them. " _Enough_. Eugene's safe. We all need to keep moving."

As if to emphasize his point, the growls of the walkers started up a few yards away, apparently catching their scent. After that there was no more opportunity to fight, but the group crackled with tension the rest of the day.

~m~

That night, after everyone had settled in, Eugene came over to the place where Mason sat. She was expecting it this time, so when he appeared, she sighed and looked right at him.

He froze, apparently expecting something venomous.

Instead, Mason nodded for him to sit.

"Much obliged," he said. The relief in his voice bordered on eagerness. She stifled the urge to heave a bigger sigh.

They sat in silence for a moment, in which Mason began to hope she might get some peace after all. Then Eugene cleared his throat.

"I've been stewin' about this all day and have yet to come to a viable conclusion," he began, but paused like he wasn't sure he wanted to say it.

Mason raised an eyebrow in wordless encouragement.

"Well, I've borne witness to what you can do. You're a skilled fighter without an apparent scintilla of fear. A fireball with a fire poker, as it were. Given your general hostility and flippancy in regard to our precarious new world, I wouldn't expect you to run from anything."

Mason balled her hands into fists. She was stuck on that middle phrase, that _fireball with a fire poker._ It was just like

 _(Gina)_

something she'd said to Beth once.

"Get to the point," she growled.

Eugene leveled her with a surprisingly bold stare. "Why did you run when you could have fought?"

She blinked, suddenly uncomfortable. Why _had_ she run? True, there'd been quite a few walkers today, but not as many as she'd faced before. Certainly not as many as there'd been yesterday. And her bloodlust hadn't dimmed. These days whenever there was danger she felt an immediate pull to it.

So why had she run?

Tapping her feet to appear nonchalant, she shrugged. "Because I didn't want to draw more attention to you. And you're important, remember?"

Eugene considered her response before nodding. "Fair play. Cards on the table, I was a little disappointed. It is truly something to behold, your skill with that fire iron."

"Thanks."

"Do you mind if I hunker down here for the night?"

Mason stiffened but Eugene continued, apparently without noticing.

"When he's on edge, Abraham has a way of making camp feel like a tinderbox. I think I'd sleep better over here with you."

She had no idea what to say in reply, so she gave him a short nod. And there was that relief again, that eagerness glowing in his face. It gave made her buzz with embarrassment.

 _I'm not that great,_ she wanted to tell him. _And I can't be your friend when we have two totally separate goals._

But it was clear that was what he wanted. And Abraham, Rosita…she might've considered them friends if they weren't so hell-bent on getting to D.C. But she knew that soon their paths would diverge, and the thought of letting herself care about someone only to watch them leave, the thought of that so soon after everything else…

She had to distance herself. It was the only solution. She couldn't hand out any more pieces of her heart when so much of it was already missing.

Silently she watched Eugene curl up a few feet away, resting his head on his pack. He prattled nonstop to her about something or other. She was only partly paying attention, her thoughts drifting once more to dark places. It was only when she realized that his chatter had changed abruptly to snoring that she was able to shake them off. She settled in for sleep after that. It came more easily than she expected.

It was kind of comforting, the snoring.

~m~

Mason woke to an unexpected weight draped across her side. Blearily she stirred, feeling it out, and froze when she realized what it was.

Sometime in the night Eugene had found his way over to her. Bristling, she shoved his arm away.

" _Get off!_ "

He startled awake and rolled away. "Wha- What's going on?"

"You had your arm around me!"

Red colored his cheeks. "Uh, my…my apologies. I'm a bit of an active sleeper. I used to sleepwalk in my younger years. In all transparency when I was around the eight year mark I-"

"I'm going for a run."

Mason took off before Eugene could respond, slipping past the rest of the group and onto the misty road.

She ran hard. Her blood beat hot under her skin.

Yes, she had to stay away.

~m~

" _So don't sit still, but don't you move away from here…_ "


	20. Don't Take the Money

Hey, guys! Thank you bunches for your kind reviews, it means so much! Today's chapter is pretty fluffy, especially compared to the last couple, because I think we really needed a break from all the angst. So the chapter title is "Don't Take the Money" by Bleachers, and it's amazing. If you ever need a cheer-up song, this is a good one. Anyway, I hope to have the next chapter up soon (it will be from Beth's POV!), but until then hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!

20\. Don't Take the Money

" _Will we fight? Stay up late?_

 _In my dreams, I'm to blame._

 _Different sides of the bed._

 _Roll your eyes, shake my head…_ "

~m~

They quickly gave up trying to interact with her. She only ever talked to Glenn and only when necessary. Eugene quit hanging around, choosing instead to befriend Tara, who took him under her wing with exasperated affability. As such, he kept up a near-steady stream of conversation, though it was mostly one-sided.

The fire in Mason's veins was finally starting to fade, but the absence of it left her feeling cold. Isolated. She told herself that was the point but it didn't make her feel better.

She knew what was really happening. She recognized the feeling with dull panic.

She was shutting down.

Each day that passed without finding Beth, Daryl, _anyone_ , was an arrow in her lungs, a dagger-twist of betrayal. She stopped hoping because hope was just another noose to hang around her neck. She started dreaming again, and all of them were about Gina. About losing her, and how it had happened all over again.

 _You don't know that,_ she would tell herself. Beth and Daryl were just gone. She hadn't found them, but she hadn't found evidence that they'd been killed either. Her iPod was gone, the crossbow and all their other weapons. She was positive they hadn't died that night.

But what about all the other nights?

It was getting harder and harder to bury that question. It kept crawling from the grave.

She kept up her routine of running, slaying walkers even when she didn't need to, but the coals were dead. She did it for something to do, something to keep her brain from short circuiting. She stopped eating. She pretended to around the others, then slipped her own food into theirs when they weren't looking.

The days grew warmer while she hollowed out. The group kept mostly to the woods, following the train tracks when they strayed too far from the road.

Today was one such day. Glenn and Abraham led the way, and Mason trailed a few feet after them. Behind her, Eugene was once again talking Tara's ear off. Rosita brought up the rear.

Mason wasn't quite paying attention. She drifted in and out of her own shadowy thoughts, occasionally returning to the present to inspect their surroundings for unfriendly visitors. Eugene, as per usual, was rambling.

"I'm well aware it sounds bananas. But knowin' what I know about this infection you cannot say for certain it _isn't_ what killed off the dinosaurs."

Her steady pace stuttered at the absurdity of the sentence. Against her will, she found herself paying a little closer attention as Eugene continued.

"Do I think that's what happened? No. But it's enjoyable as hell to think about an undead ankylosaur going after a diplodocus. That there is a video game worth the preorder."

Mason almost smiled. Almost.

"Oh, hell yeah. Score."

Eugene and Tara's footsteps halted for a moment. Mason slowed up, curious in spite of herself.

"A few more of those, little aluminum foil and some bleach, you got yourself some volts, sister. Homemade battery."

Mason risked a glance behind her to see Tara holding a flattened penny. With a little smile, she handed it to Eugene.

"For reals? You don't want it?" he said.

"For reals."

"Much obliged."

Before either of them could notice her looking, Mason faced forward and carried on.

"Speaking of video games, what kind of gamer were you? RPGs, shmup, sim racing?"

At that, she _did_ smile. Just a little.

 _Nerd._

"I'm an RPG man myself, although I will admit to crushing it at strategy games. Outzone, Illyriad. I was a pro at Pikmin, botanic as it was."

Mason blinked, surprised to know for once what he was talking about. She'd played Pikmin all the time before the outbreak. Gina had teased her relentlessly.

She opened her mouth, about to say as much, and then bit down sharply.

What the fuck was she doing? Who gave a shit about a silly video game? She frowned and marched on.

"There was a period of time in which I devoted myself to superhero games. Shooters, adventures, trivia. It didn't matter what they were. I won't lie, I ate 'em up, hook, line and sinker."

Her lips twitched again. It was just too damn easy to picture him geeking out over the complexities of Wolverine.

"Much as it galls me to admit, the Marvel games were usually higher quality. Better graphics, smoother game play. But I am a DC man through and through."

Mason narrowed her eyes.

"The powers are better, for one thing."

She wasn't going to say anything. She wasn't.

"And DC bears a general grit that Marvel lacks."

"Oh, _bull. Shit._ "

Everyone stopped. All eyes locked on her.

Mason blushed, mortified by her traitor mouth but desperate not to show it.

Except that everyone was gawking at her like she'd morphed into a giant toad or something.

It was Eugene who saved her. He had the barest hint of a smile on his face, and his eyes were as shocked as the rest, but when he spoke his tone was even. Like she'd been talking with him the whole time.

"How so bullshit?"

Gratefully she took the out. "Um, DC _sucks_. They're inferior, everyone knows it."

Abraham chuckled. "Well, well. She speaks! We thought maybe you'd chewed your tongue down to gunk in a fit of angsty violence."

Though the heat crept back into her cheeks, Mason looked at him and muttered, "I'd never eat my _own_ tongue. There are too many fun things to do with it."

Tara laughed. Even Rosita smiled. And Glenn's eyes found hers, shining with relief.

Abraham grinned. "Darlin'," he said. "If I had a drink, I would drink to that."

After that, it was as if a storm cloud had suddenly dissipated. They continued on, noticeably more relaxed. Eugene kept pace with Mason, Tara a few steps behind.

"I'm going to require an explanation for your blasphemous opinion," he said.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yes, and cite your sources. I don't believe you are one hundred percent credible given that anyone in their right mind would never freely exalt Marvel over DC."

Mason snorted. "Why would you think that? Marvel actually put out some really good movies. DC's were all trash. The old ones were ridiculous and the new ones tried to surpass them by taking themselves too seriously. Which only made them more ridiculous."

"If you want to talk ridiculous, let me remind you of a little cinematic flop by the misnomer _The Incredible Hulk_."

"That's a low blow! And it just shows that you're grasping at straws. Marvel may have had some misfires but DC was _all_ misfire."

It was stupid, arguing about superhero movies in the middle of the apocalypse, and that was precisely why she _needed_ to. In spite of herself, in spite of _everything,_ she felt better. Things weren't better, and they weren't going to be like they were before. But she was clearer. Like maybe tomorrow she would wake up and just _handle_ things. It wasn't fixed, but it was a start.

"Although…" she continued. "Okay, I will admit, _Watchmen_ was fucking amazing. It's like they used all their awesome up on that."

"You like _Watchmen_?" Eugene said. "By far that is my favorite movie of all time, despite any and all deviations from the graphic novel."

"For reals? Okay, here's the real test: who was your favorite character?"

"Obviously Rorschach."

"Yes!"

Mason grinned and Eugene's eyes gleamed back. She had the fleeting, dizzying sensation of being a kid again.

 _It's stupid,_ she reminded herself.

She felt so much better.

~m~

"What was your favorite TV show?"

"That there is a long list in need of pruning."

"If I can guess even one, you owe me."

"Owe you what?"

"I don't know. A pretty rock or something."

"Find your own rock. I am a man of mystery and I-"

" _The X Files_."

"…Shit."

" _Ha!_ Nerd."

~m~

"Are you a cat or dog person?"

"Both."

"Same, sister. I wasn't allowed any in my apartment but I fostered several unauthorized strays. And one iguana."

"Let's start a zoo together!"

"I'll contact the zoning officials."

~m~

"If you could have anything in the world to eat right now, what would it be?"

"I don't even have to think about it. King ranch casserole and a pitcher of sweet tea."

"Whoa. That was so southern I'm gonna need you to translate for me."

"Chicken, tomatoes, cream of mushroom and some cheese. That right there is Texas ambrosia."

"Sounds a little gooey for me."

"I challenge you to name a superior dish."

"Hamburger, medium well, with fried egg, guacamole and barbeque sauce."

"That doesn't sound kingly enough."

"Will you two shut the fuck up about food?"

"Sorry, Tara."

~m~

"I can guess what you were in a past life."

"Even if that were scientifically possible I cannot believe that with your helter-skelter approach to life you could accurately calculate the intricacies of a former me."

"I could be the helterest-skelterest motherfucker on the planet and _still_ know that in a past life you were king of the nerds."

~m~

"So you're telling me you like watermelons but _don't_ like watermelon-flavored things? You're such a weirdo."

Mason and Eugene lay side by side, looking up at the stars through a hole in the canopy of leaves. The group had stopped for the night not far off the train tracks. Tara had made sure she'd eaten: "You think I haven't noticed you starving yourself? Just pretend it's a guacamole burger."

It had been a long, hot, tiring day, and the best since leaving the prison.

"Begging your pardon," Eugene said, "but you just confessed to me a brazen contempt for chili. Of all the classic American fares to disrespect."

"That's because it has beans in it!"

"I'm starting to think you have fasoliphobia. A fear of beans."

"I have a fear of their disgusting taste."

"That right there is proof that I'm not the weird one."

Mason shook her head, tossing from hand to hand the rock from Eugene. When he'd picked it for her, she'd been too startled to tell him how much she really loved it. It looked like the moon.

"So before all this," he said, "what was your occupation?"

"I was a housekeeper," she said. "I turned apartments at this sketchy complex, picked up trash around the grounds… Pretty glamorous, right?"

Eugene shrugged. "In my humble opinion, a job does not need to be glamorous to be enjoyable. You got to chew your own cud, as it were. Fresh air, solitude… Sounds damn near ideal."

Mason smiled. "Yeah, I did actually enjoy it. I just listened to my music all day and vacuumed hallways. It was a good job for me." She elbowed Eugene in the side and added, "We can't all be scientists, anyway."

For just a moment, Eugene remained silent and Mason caught the sense that something was on his mind.

"You alright?"

He blinked, as though resurfacing from a darker depth, and looked at her. "Yes. I'd say I'm doing a whole lot better than I was before."

Mason's smile grew. "Me, too."

She dreamed that night, like she had the past few nights, except this time none of them were nightmares. She dreamed that she found Beth and Daryl, that she introduced them to Eugene. That she reunited Glenn and Maggie, that one by one she recovered the shattered pieces of her group.

She dreamed of being happy.

~m~

When she woke, it was with some irritation that she realized sometime in the night Eugene had trapped her arm in a tight embrace. She rolled her eyes and sat up, trying to tug away. But Eugene just snored louder and reaffirmed his grip, mumbling incoherent dream-talk.

Mason narrowed her eyes and reached out a hand to tickle under his arm.

He tightened into a ball at first, but when it did little to impede her assault he groaned and rolled away, freeing her. Mason smirked.

"Morning, nerd."

"Kindly fuck off," Eugene replied.

With a laugh, Mason left for her morning run.

It was looking to be another scorcher. The heat rose quickly with the sun, turning the woods into a sauna. By the time Mason turned back for camp, she was soaked with sweat.

The group was waiting for her on the train tracks, trading food and arguing lightly over whose turn it should've been to make breakfast. Eugene tossed her a water bottle.

"Are you ready to resume yesterday's debate?"

Mason finished drinking and raised an eyebrow. "Which one?"

"I think he probably means the vampire/werewolf superiority thing," Tara said. "I don't remember weighing in one that one."

"Okay, Tara has the deciding vote. And I'm more than ready to whoop your ass," Mason said, glaring a challenge at Eugene.

"Good luck. I was debate champion in high school three years running."

"I wasn't allowed on the debate team because they were scared of me."

"I honestly cannot tell if you're joking."

They stuck to the tracks all morning. Though everyone seemed to be in higher spirits, Mason noticed dark rings under everyone's eyes. She blinked in surprise. The nights spent on her own had apparently done her some good after all. She wasn't as tense about sleeping in the woods as the others.

It was approaching noon when a sign appeared in the distance. Mason paused in her discussion with Eugene. They'd moved on from vampires and werewolves to whether or not aliens influenced the development of technology throughout the years. Eugene was convinced they nudged humanity in the right direction whenever civilization became a little morally destitute; Mason was adamant aliens kept humans on Earth as some sort of farm. They both agreed that extraterrestrials helped in building the pyramids.

Eugene fell silent, noting her intent expression. "What is it?"

She pointed. "That sign. Someone's written on it."

She told herself not to hope. She told herself it could have been anyone, at any time.

Her heart hammered anyway.

Then she was close enough to read it, and a lump formed in her throat. Breathless, she turned to Glenn. His eyes welled with tears as he took in the words:

GLENN GO TO TERMINUS

MAGGIE SASHA BOB

"Glenn," she whispered.

He looked at her. His teeth clenching. His eyes wild with hope. Then he took off running.

Mason glanced at the others. Abraham and Rosita were in disbelief. Tara's eyes were bright with tears. Eugene watched Mason with a complicated expression. Like he was waiting for her to tell him what to do, and like he knew it would hurt him.

She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring look. Then she ran after Glenn.

~m~

" _You steal the air out of my lungs, you make me feel it,_

 _I pray for everything we lost, buy back the secrets,_

 _your hand forever's all I want, don't take the money,_

 _don't take the money._ "


	21. Me

Hey, all. Thanks once again for all your awesome reviews! Today's chapter follows S4E12 (Still) pretty closely; I was originally tempted to skip it but it didn't feel right to leave this part of her story out. So I made this chapter a journal entry to keep it more succinct. Within it, there is a song she references called "You're Somebody Else" by Flora Cash, a really great one that was recommended by DampishPoet (thank you again!) The chapter title itself is a reference to "Me" by The 1975, a very sad song and one of my personal favorites. I'm currently working on the next chapter. Until then, hope you enjoy!

21\. Me

" _I got a plane in the middle of the night, don't you mind._

 _I nearly killed somebody, don't you mind, don't you mind…_ "

~m~

I know I won't be able to keep you, and I don't plan on it. There are some things we just can't keep anymore, some things that have to burn. But I will try. I will try like hell to get my thoughts out before the fire.

Mason is gone. We haven't seen her since that night with the walkers, and Daryl thinks she's dead. I don't. I know Mason. She's the toughest person I've met, and she's out there somewhere looking for me.

Last night I dreamed I found her, on some beach somewhere. The place wasn't familiar but it felt like home. She smiled that smile I fell in love with, the one that was a paradox: shy and bold, soft and strong all at once. She doesn't know how beautiful she is. She never did.

In the dream, her eyes looked like stars. They sparked at me as she took my hand and laid me down in the sand.

And we made love. I can't remember details, just the feeling that it gave me, that lingered for long after I woke up. That the world was in order again, that there was a future.

When I find her, I'm going to throw her against a wall and make her feel the same. I was always too nervous before to make a move. Sex was always something frightening and forbidden, something my friends giggled about, something my sister rebelled with. I know even less about what it's supposed to be like with a woman. But I want Mason to be my first.

I want her. I miss her. She is alive and I'm going to find her.

~m~

Today was a good day, but it didn't start out that way. Daryl and I had a breakfast of roasted snake in the seventh camp we've been forced to make and I couldn't stand the silence. Daryl refused to speak to me. He's probably said a total of five words to me since losing Mason, so it wasn't like this was weird or anything, but I'd had enough of it.

I needed a drink.

Daryl tried to stop me at first, but in the end he followed me to this golf course secluded in the woods. He spent his time raging around, killing walkers, while I searched for the bar. He reminded me of something Mason said once, about how she was before finding our group.

"When I wasn't empty, I was angry." She told me this after listening to her iPod for hours on the roof of the prison, when one of the songs put a distant sadness in her eyes.

I don't remember all of it. I just remember the chorus:

" _Well you look like yourself,_

 _but you're somebody else,_

 _only it ain't on the surface._

 _Well you talk like yourself,_

 _no, I hear someone else though,_

 _now you're making me nervous._ "

That's what Mason said she was like after losing Gina. That's what Daryl's been like since losing Mason. And some mornings when I wake up I feel the same. That's why I did what I did today. I was desperate to _feel_ something, like I did in that dream.

The only thing left at the bar was a bottle of peach Schnapps. I'd never heard Mason mention it before but Daryl said it wasn't good. I don't know. I never got to taste.

I spent a few minutes searching for a clean glass but all of them were caked in blood, and when I decided to drink straight from the bottle I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I kept thinking about Daddy, how he always imported to us the dangers of drinking alcohol. I thought about how he might look if he walked in right then and caught me.

I thought about Mason, telling me she was happy, and I started to cry.

Part of me hated myself for it. Strong people aren't supposed to cry, right? But the tears kept coming.

Finally, Daryl took the bottle from me and threw it against the wall.

"Ain't gonna have your first drink be no damn peach Schnapps."

That's what he said. And I'll never forget how I looked into his eyes right then and saw he understood. He was thinking of them, too.

He led me to a sketchy looking shack some distance away from the golf course. I was confused at first because I thought he might be taking me to a liquor store, like Mason used to, but then he pulled out the jugs. It was clear liquid inside, and I thought maybe it might be vodka until he handed it to me.

"Moonshine," he said, which made me nervous. Daddy always told me bad moonshine could make you go blind, but Daryl didn't seem too worried about it so I took a drink.

It tasted like shit, but I still wish Mason could've been there. It would've been fitting, you know?

Daryl didn't want to drink at first but I convinced him. There was nowhere else to go and nothing else to do. I was glad he was starting to listen to me.

We started to play a game my friends used to play, that Never Have I Ever game. I missed Mason even more then. I think she would've had fun. But I guess maybe I said some things I shouldn't have, because when I said I'd never been a prisoner Daryl got mad.

He grabbed me and took me outside, tried to bully me into using the crossbow on a walker. I was scared of him for the first time. I was scared of the anguish in his eyes.

He asked me what I wanted from him and I told him. I told him not to act like he didn't give a crap about anything, like the people we'd loved meant nothing.

I told him that when he looked at me, he just saw another dead girl.

I told him I wasn't Michonne, or Carol, or Maggie. I wasn't Mason. That just because I wasn't like the rest of them didn't mean I wasn't a survivor.

I told him he was afraid, and now god forbid he let anybody get too close.

He was just like Mason.

The anger in his eyes then was enough that I wanted to run, but I didn't.

He screamed at me that everybody that we knew was dead. That we were never going to see them again. Rick, Maggie. Mason.

"The Governor rolled right up to our gates," he said. "Maybe if I wouldn't've stopped looking. Maybe cuz I gave up, that's on _me_."

But he's wrong. It wasn't his fault, it was never his fault. Things just happen now. The world isn't like it used to be, it isn't fair, and we can't shoulder it alone.

I held him close while he cried, and I cried with him. I knew it was okay then. For strong people to cry.

After a while, we went back inside. Gathered up our moonshine and sat on the porch to watch the moon come out. I wondered if Mason was watching it, too, if she was thinking of me. I pictured her face and couldn't stop smiling.

I know now why Daddy stopped drinking. Why Mason couldn't stop. Because if I could, I would make myself feel that way all the time. Like I was weightless. Like nothing could touch me.

Daryl sat across from me and he told me about his brother, about who he was before all of this. I told him about the life I wished Daddy could've had, and who I wanted to be. I held Mason's iPod in my hands and ached to turn it on, to scroll through the songs that were all her, but I knew I couldn't waste the battery.

So I sang. I sang one of the ones Mason hardly ever listened to. Not because she didn't like it, but because it made her feel _too_ much.

" _I put your mother through hell, don't you mind._

 _I hurt your brother as well, don't you mind, don't you mind._

 _Oh, I was thinking 'bout killing myself, don't you mind._

 _I love you, don't you mind, don't you mind._ "

Daryl listened, staring up at the moon like he could see things in it no one else could. And when I was finished, he stayed quiet for a long time.

When he finally spoke, it was to say that we should go inside.

But I was warm, and I was feeling too much, and I knew that there are some things you can't keep, and some things you shouldn't.

So I smiled and said, "We should burn it down."

I didn't think Daryl would agree, but when he stood up he said, "We're gonna need more booze."

So we gathered up the rest of the moonshine and set to work dousing the walls, the furniture, the crappy little knickknacks Daryl couldn't stand to look at because of his dad. I danced through the house, shattering glasses, breathing in the heady fumes and pretending it was what the moon smelled like.

When the alcohol ran out, we stood outside and Daryl offered me the match.

The shack went up quickly, like it was ready to be destroyed, and the fire lit up the surrounding woods with golden light.

I couldn't stop smiling. It was strange to feel so happy in the middle of so much despair, but the sight of that burning house set fire to my drunken blood.

Mason would have been smiling, too. She would've held my hand and stood illuminated, like some sunset angel.

Picturing it, my smile grew. I lifted my hand, middle finger raised, and she laughed in the back of my mind.

I might've stood there forever with Daryl, middle fingers in the air, but the walkers came, drawn by the light. Still, we left smiling. And tonight I feel freer than I have since the prison fell.

~m~

Today, Daryl and I found a funeral home where we think people might be staying. No one's here right now, but I want to wait and see if they return and I think Daryl agrees.

He didn't at first. He was pretty adamant about only staying for the night, but now he says he's okay with waiting.

He told me earlier that he didn't think there were good people left. When I asked him what changed his mind, he gave me this look I'd only ever seen him give Mason.

 _I_ changed his mind. And I didn't know what to say when I realized. I _still_ don't. It's not like I don't know that he and Mason have a special bond, and I'd have to be blind not to notice the way he looks at her. It just completely threw me off guard to see him look at me the same way.

I guess it doesn't really matter. We're safe, and we have food, and maybe we'll make some friends when whoever lives here comes back. Maybe we'll know them.

Anyway, I gotta go. Daryl says there's a dog outside.

~m~

I don't have much time to get all my thoughts down. I don't even know why it matters because when I'm done, I'm just going to burn you. There's a chance these people have already read what I've written, but there's also a chance they haven't. I think I just need to purge myself just a little more, bleed out all the hurt and anxiety, because I think I'm going to have to do something and I think I'm going to need to not feel anything when I do it.

Daryl and I were overrun by walkers at the funeral home. I got out, but I don't know if he did. The walkers surrounded me on the road and I blacked out.

Now I'm here at some hospital in Atlanta. Grady Memorial I think. There's a woman here, a cop, who's in charge. I don't trust her. There's something unstable in her eyes, but it's hidden beneath a neat, orderly mask.

She says I owe her for saving me. She says I'm going to stay here until I can pay back my debt.

This place is a prison. The people here…they're not right. I can't stay locked in here with them when Mason and Daryl are still out there. When they need me.

I don't know how. I don't know when. But I'm breaking out of here. I'll set fire to the whole place if that's what it takes.

That's all I have left to say. I'm going to burn you in my bathroom sink. There are so many things I can't keep in this world, but the things I can?

I'm going to fight for them.


	22. Little Black Submarines

Hey, guys! Well, this one's a bit of a longer one than the last couple just because I was hoping to fit in quite a bit. Hopefully you enjoy it. Thank you guys for your reviews, they really brighten my day! Also, today's chapter title is "Little Black Submarines" by The Black Keys, it's pretty cool. Let me know what you think!

22\. Little Black Submarines

" _Little black submarines,_

 _operator, please,_

 _put me back on the line._

 _Told my girl I'd be back,_

 _operator, please,_

 _this is wrecking my mind._ "

Abraham called the group to a halt near a derelict train tower. Several yards in the lead, Mason and Glenn exchanged a glance.

"It's barely noon," he said.

"I don't give a monkey's left nut," Abraham replied. "None of us has slept more than a couple hours straight since we went all Casey Jones. This place looks safe. We need to rest."

Glenn looked about to argue, and Mason didn't blame him. With each step, the urgency grew. Maggie, Sasha and Bob were somewhere ahead of them, maybe not even that far at all. And if they were out there, then the rest of their family could be, too.

Abraham spoke before either of them could. "I get it. You have to find her. But Rosita and me, we got a mission, too, and that is keeping Eugene alive, getting him to Washington and saving the _whole damn world_. So we're going in that tower, and we're going now."

Mason bristled at the order, but before she could spit out a retort a snarling made them all look up.

A walker lurked on the second level of the tower, alerted by the noise.

"Oh, crap," Eugene said, seconds before the walker walked right off the ledge.

Heart clenching with sudden fear, Mason rushed toward him but Abraham beat her there, pushing Eugene out of the way and knocking Tara to the ground in the process. The air hissed through her teeth as she hit the ground, cuffing her knee against the train tracks. Walker blood splattered them all.

Mason knelt by Tara's side. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she grunted, eyes squeezed shut with pain.

Mason shared a worried glance with Rosita, then slipped an arm around Tara's waist. "C'mon, let's get you up. Can you put pressure on it?"

"Maybe in a second. The pain'll fade, I'll be okay." Mason steadied her as she hopped on one foot, obviously trying to downplay how badly it hurt.

"Hey, are you okay?" Glenn asked. "Do you want to stop, or keep going?"

"No, keep going, I'm fine."

Mason frowned. "If you're not-"

"No, really, I'm okay."

Glenn nodded, as if it wasn't plain she was putting on a brave face, and turned to Abraham. "Look, if she can keep going, we all can keep going."

But Abraham's eyes were glinting like steel, the way they did when he didn't plan on conceding any time soon.

"Or," Glenn said, "you guys can stay here. You don't need us, we don't need you. It's okay."

For some reason, this opened a pit of anxiety in Mason's stomach. She glanced instinctively at Eugene to find him looking back at her, with the same tension in his eyes.

Rosita leveled Glenn with a searing glare. "Wow, you're an _ass_. She will do whatever you say, because she thinks she owes you. _Man up_. Stay here for a few hours."

Through all of this, Tara kept her eyes downcast.

After a moment, Glenn spoke again to Abraham. "You just care about keeping Eugene safe, right? That's the only reason you want to stop? Then we go until sundown, I give Eugene my riot gear, right here, right now, everybody wins."

"Except Tara," Rosita snapped.

"You're not her mama," Abraham said. It was clear he was weighing Glenn's words, glancing from him to Eugene and back again. Finally, he looked at Tara.

"She says she can walk, she can walk. You all got yourselves a deal."

Mason kept close to Tara as the group continued, watching to make sure she didn't stumble or fall behind. Eugene stayed close, too, unusually silent. She was tempted to tease him about the riot gear, about how official he looked in it, just to break the tension. Instead she watched their surroundings for walkers and ignored her growing unease.

It was a few hours later when they found the train tunnel, and the writing on the cement just outside of it.

GLENN GO TO TERMINUS

MAGGIE SASHA BOB

Glenn touched his finger to the walker blood it was written in. The hope rolling off of him was almost palpable.

"We're gaining on them. Blood's still wet."

"We sure as Shinola can't go up and over," Abraham said, nodding to the rocky, vine-tangled cliff face above.

Everyone gathered at the mouth of the tunnel, hesitating when a distant cacophony echoed from it.

"How 'bout around?"

"No," Glenn said. "That'd take a day, maybe more. If Maggie went through, I'm going through. They're close."

"That there is a long, dark tunnel full of reanimated corpses," Abraham said. "I don't have full-on certainty that I can get Eugene through there alive."

Mason swallowed, her fingers clenching reflexively around the moon rock.

"My recommendation would be take the day, make the detour and play it safe, but I know you're not gonna do that. So this is where we've gotta part ways."

 _No._

She was surprised by the force behind the mental protest, surprised by the distress. Eugene looked at her, his eyes full of a pain she felt too cleanly cut through her own chest.

"I'm sorry," Abraham said, setting Glenn's backpack at his feet. "You're on your own."

"No, you're not," Tara said, taking her place at Glenn's side.

Mason knew this was the part where she was supposed to chime in, make her own declaration that Glenn would not be traveling alone, but she couldn't tear her gaze from the anguish in Eugene's.

She was half-aware that Abraham had dug some of the rations from his own pack and was handing them to Glenn.

"No, no, no. Those are yours," Glenn protested. "You guys will need them for your trip."

"You will, too."

Reluctantly, Glenn took them. "Thank you."

 _Fuck. Fuck._

Panic fluttered in her chest. These were the last minutes she would spend with Eugene, with Abraham and Rosita. She might not ever see them again. She had let herself get attached, just like always.

 _We have to keep the family together!_

Frantically she began searching the ground. She didn't have time to find a perfect one, but she tried to find one as similar to hers as possible.

When she finally found it, she held her hand out to Eugene. "Here."

He blinked, confused, until she dropped the rock into his palm.

When he looked at her, a blush crept into her cheeks. "Well, you know… You won that vampire/werewolf debate, so… I owe you."

Quietly, he replied, "Thank you."

During their exchange, Abraham had finished divvying up the supplies. Glenn hefted the backpack over his shoulders.

"Sorry I hit you in the face," he said.

Abraham grinned. "I'm not," he said, then shrugged. "I like to fight."

In spite of her turmoil, Mason smiled. It wasn't just Eugene she would miss.

Rosita came over to say her goodbyes.

"Good luck," she told Glenn.

"Don't let him boss you around," she told Tara.

"Marvel is one hundred percent superior," she told Mason.

Which left Eugene, who stood there for a moment like he couldn't figure out what to say. His eyes never left Mason's. She wanted to hug him goodbye but something held her back. Finally, he seemed to gather himself.

"You're all, uh, good people. I wish you all the best in your travels."

He paused, squared his shoulders and continued.

"Tara, Mason… I have to say that you are both seriously hot."

This time it wasn't just her cheeks that flooded with heat, it was her whole damn face.

"Yeah, we like girls," Tara said, and Mason felt an odd prickle of irritation, though she couldn't say why.

Eugene nodded. "I'm well aware of that."

Tara smiled. Glenn chuckled behind them. And Mason rolled her eyes in a last ditch effort to disguise her sudden shyness.

"Say you get into trouble in there," Abraham said, "you turn around. We're doubling back to the first road we crossed. Maybe you find us before we find the right ride."

"Thanks," Glenn said.

They nodded at each other, and Abraham led his group back the way they'd come.

Mason looked back just once before following Glenn and Tara into the dark.

~m~

"When Brian told us he wanted to take over the prison, I knew it sounded bad."

Mason glanced at Tara, startled. All three of them had been quiet since entering the tunnel. The sudden noise surprised her, as well as the name.

 _I thought the cocksucker's name was Phillip,_ she thought with a curl of her lip.

"When I found my girlfriend, she was dead."

Mason winced, but Tara continued without noticing, her eyes distant with remembering.

"My niece… My sister, she was surrounded, pounced on. I saw it happen. But still, it wasn't as bad as seeing what he did to Maggie's father."

Glenn halted. Mason stopped herself from biting her lip, from digging her nails into her palms. Anything physical to distract from the agony of the memory.

Tara glanced from her to Glenn, her eyes wide with confessing, with the hope that they would understand.

"Because that's when I knew," she said. "That second the sword… I wanted to scream no but it just happened. Brian said we might have to kill people. I was the first to jump in. I was just hanging on the 'might'."

Glenn stared at her, like he was desperate to take it all in and desperate not to. Mason remembered with a jolt that he hadn't been out in the courtyard that day, hadn't seen…

She blinked sharply. _Don't think about it._

She reached out and took Tara's hand.

"It happened," she said. "You didn't know. You didn't know us."

Tears welled in Tara's eyes but never fell. She shook her head. "No. I didn't."

Mason offered her a small smile. "You're with us now."

~m~

When Glenn's flashlight illuminated the cave-in, Mason's throat tightened with anxiety. There were walkers caught in the rocks, squirming to get loose, but a quick examination revealed that none of their faces were familiar. Glenn paced back and forth with a bleak expression and she knew he was checking for the same.

"The blood's fresh," Tara said. "This must've happened today."

After a strained, wordless exchange, they began to climb. Mason focused on making sure Tara didn't lose her balance instead of the clamorous growling on the other side of the debris. But when they reached the top and saw the mass of walkers on the other side, it swept every other thought from her mind.

 _Shit._

There were too many to hope to fight in the dark, just the three of them, and with Tara injured. But Glenn stepped forward as if that was exactly what he intended to do.

Mason grabbed his arm. " _Glenn_. What are you doing?"

"She's not one of them," Glenn said, breathless with relief. "And there's no bodies on the ground, that means Maggie made it through. We have to get rid of them."

"We don't have enough ammo," Tara protested.

"Well, then we'll push through."

"No. We have to find another way."

"She's right," Mason said. "You're no help to Maggie if you're dead."

"If she made it through, then so can we."

"Tara's hurt. We'd be hard-pressed to make it through that in the dark even if she wasn't."

"Mason, _please_!"

The pain in Glenn's face knocked the air from her lungs. Her mind raced, eyes flickering down to the walkers who had gathered below. Grimly, she frowned.

"Give me your flashlight."

A few minutes later, the flashlight sat shining at the left side of the tunnel while the three of them crouched behind the debris. When the walkers had all been lured to one side of the rock pile, Mason led the way over the other.

They were nearly clear when one of the rocks shifted under Tara's feet. She slid roughly, cursing as a slab of loosened concrete trapped her legs.

"Shit, is your leg okay?" Mason hissed.

"Y-yeah, but…"

Tara trailed off as Glenn and Mason tugged at the rock. They pulled until their hands bled but it wouldn't budge.

"Go."

Mason looked up. Tara's eyes were bright with tears but she smiled a little at Glenn.

"Find Maggie."

" _No_ ," Mason said, and Glenn echoed her.

"You can't save me," Tara said. "Even if you got this off of me, I can't run, and if you stay here they're gonna get all of us."

Glenn shook his head. "No, there's gotta be a way."

"They're coming."

Mason growled. "We're getting you out."

" _Get out of here_!"

Tara shoved them both away, her eyes blazing with pain and fear. Mason remembered her face at the prison, her guilt and horror. She raised her fire iron and turned around.

" _No_."

The walkers converged quickly. Glenn and Mason stood their ground in front of Tara though they were desperately outnumbered. Half of their attackers appeared out of nowhere, veiled in shadow. Mason's heart thundered with the reality that these might be her final moments.

The car swerved suddenly from around the corner, blinding Mason with its headlights.

" _Get down_!" a voice thundered. Glenn and Mason had only seconds to huddle over Tara before the machine guns started, splattering them with walker blood.

When it ended, they looked up. Six figures stood silhouetted before them, hazy in the smoke of the gunfire. One of them broke away from the rest. Glenn sucked in a sharp breath.

" _Maggie_."

Then they were in each other's arms and Maggie was sobbing into his shoulder and Mason felt like falling to the ground.

 _He found her. She's alive._

She could barely breathe as her eyes adjusted to the light. Sasha and Bob were there, and there was something different in the way they lingered together. Closer. Beside them stood Abraham and Rosita, and behind them, Eugene.

Suddenly Mason couldn't make sense of her emotions. Her joy and relief at this reunion, which a part of her had always doubted, was shadowed by the fierce well of disappointment in hoping for _more_. She'd always imagined Beth finding her sister. The absence of her now was nearly unbearable.

But just as her knees began to shake, just before the emotion could drown her, her eyes found Eugene's. His mouth quirked in a rare smile and it was an automatic thing, smiling back.

She felt too much but she wouldn't let it drag her down again. She couldn't if she wanted to keep going. Her strength no longer came from her alone.

Her strength smiled back at her across the train tracks.

~m~

Mason leaned against Eugene's shoulder. "So basically what you're telling me is your ex was a bitch. Like a total, one hundred percent, scum-sucking scab hag."

"Well, I don't know if I would word it that way…"

Tara stared. "Eugene. She dated you for answers to the chemistry final, forced you to pay for her prom, dumped you at the after party and had the jocks throw you in a pond."

"That is correct."

Mason shook her head. "Yeah, that doesn't fly with me. If I'd been there, I would've beat them all into the fucking ground. Like, if they'd wanted to keep their faces intact they would've had to flee the country."

Eugene blinked in surprise and Mason grinned.

"Nobody fucks with my nerd. Except for, you know, me."

"Well, I sincerely wish you'd been there."

"We could've been outcasts together."

"Were you?"

"Oh, totally. I had my fair share of bullies, especially after I told everyone I was bi."

"Bi?" Eugene repeated.

"Yeah, short for bicycle."

"I…I just thought you were a lesbian."

"Well, I've mostly dated girls but there were some guys, too. I've always been an outcast, but it was so much worse after coming out. It was kind of ridiculous, but no one really believed me? _Especially_ when I was dating a guy. They thought I was confused or starved for attention… my all-time favorite, though, was 'equal opportunity slut'."

Tara laughed at that but Eugene frowned.

"I would not have tolerated that," he said, but Mason just laughed.

"Back then it got to me but now it just makes me giggle. I love casting fear into the hearts of homophobes."

"I had a couple of lovely titles myself," Tara said. "But my favorite…okay, so I was pretty active in, like, theatre and stuff, and I was pretty popular before I came out, everyone knew me. So the bitchier populars started calling me celebudyke."

Mason and Tara cackled loud enough for Abraham to pop his head up with a growl.

"I can't make you idiots sleep but I can whoop you into next week if you disturb my sweet-dreaming ass one more time.

Mason snickered. "Sorry, Red."

Reluctantly, Tara sighed. "We probably should get some sleep. It's been a long day, and we'll be walking all day tomorrow."

Mason nodded, coming down slowly from her lightened mood. After reuniting, Abraham had revealed to Maggie, Sasha and Bob the mission to get Eugene to Washington. The group had been torn over what to do until Eugene had suggested they all go to Terminus together, where they hoped to find food, transport and allies.

After saying goodnight, Tara went to sleep closer to the fire. Mason and Eugene stayed where they were, huddled against the tunnel wall.

"I'm glad you came back," Mason murmured.

"Me, too," Eugene replied.

They were silent for a moment, watching the fire light play with shadows on the wall.

"What are you going to do after we get to Terminus?"

Eugene spoke quietly, but the question jolted her anyway.

"Well… I'm going to hope that Beth and Daryl found their way there. But if not… I have to keep looking for them."

After a moment, Eugene nodded. "If they're there, do you think they'd come to D.C. with us?"

Mason smiled. "Yes. And then there'll be two more people to tease you about watching _The X Files._ "

They lay side by side in the dark, whispering like kids at a sleepover until sleep claimed them.

~m~

The group's high spirits carried into the next day, fueling their long walk down the tracks to the end of the line. Mason, Tara and Eugene kept to their own little pocket, until Sasha began arguing with Eugene about the finer points of Star Trek and Bob got sucked in as the mediator.

However, when the great brick building loomed on the horizon, everyone fell silent. The sight of its boarded windows, the letters painted beneath proclaiming its importance: TERMINUS. Something about the place made her neck prickle.

The group paused, one last silent consensus on whether or not to continue. No one voiced any objection, but Mason could see she wasn't the only one who felt nervous. She sidled closer to Eugene as they continued, reaffirming her grip on her gun, just in case.

They reached the front gate without incident, without seeing another living soul. It wasn't locked; Glenn unraveled the chain holding it closed and they slipped on through. The courtyard outside reminded her a bit of the prison, flower pots and garden troughs and water barrels. Still, Mason glanced firmly at Eugene, a reminder to keep close to her.

They came to another, smaller gate, with a sign that instructed them to lower their weapons. Almost everyone did, excluding Mason and Abraham. Glenn led them through this gate, too, and down a path between the first building and a second. There were more garden troughs, and flowers growing in bright, firework clumps. Mason's nose twitched, registering the unexpected smell of cooking meat.

It came from up ahead, where a middle-aged woman was leaning over a wide grill, so absorbed in her task that she didn't notice her guests until Glenn cleared his throat.

The woman's eyes widened and then she smiled. "Hi," she said. "I'm Mary. Looks like you've been on the road awhile."

"We have," Maggie said.

"Well, let's get you settled and make you a plate. Welcome to Terminus."

Mason's stomach rumbled at the thought, but she refused to let her guard down. Everything was so…quiet. It was making her edgy. Sensing her tension, Eugene raised an eyebrow. She said nothing but shook her head. These people had to earn her trust.

Mary was soon joined by a group of young men, one of whom carried himself confidently. She surmised he was the leader, as he stepped forward and greeted them.

"My name's Gareth," he said. "Welcome to sanctuary. There's plenty of room here for all of you, but before anything else, we need to see everyone's weapons. If you could lay them on the ground, we can get things rolling that much quicker."

He was congenial, matter-of-fact. Cocky. Mason narrowed her eyes.

Bob and Tara were the first to lay down their guns, but Mason and Abraham exchanged a tight glance.

Gareth smiled a little. "You're nervous, I know. I can assure you we have nothing to hide, but we also need to figure out who we're dealing with. Taking in people off the road has its risks. We've kept this place going this long by playing it safe."

Mason hesitated, but Eugene nodded at her. Slowly, she lowered her gun and her fire iron.

She stood stiffly as the other men surrounded them and began to pat them down. She stared straight ahead, but in her peripheral she kept her attention trained on Eugene.

"So how long have you people been on the road?" Gareth asked.

"A while," Sasha answered.

"We're on our way to D.C.," Bob said.

Gareth raised an eyebrow. "That's a long way. What's in D.C.?"

A flicker of movement caught Mason's eye. Trying not to draw attention, she glanced up at one of the buildings.

"Eugene here is a scientist," Glenn explained.

"A scientist?"

Something moved on the roof.

"Yes. He knows how to reverse all this. Get us back to the way things were."

A man.

Before Mason could draw breath, Gareth snapped his fingers and the man on the roof raised his gun.

Acting on instinct, Mason threw herself at Eugene, wrapping around him as much as she could to shield him from the gunfire. Briefly their eyes met, wide with fear, and then Abraham was there, shoving them away.

There was no time to turn back for their weapons. The men had already snatched them up. So they ran, herded by bullets.

 _They're shooting at our feet,_ Mason thought dizzily. _They want us alive._

The group stuck together through the assault, but it quickly became clear that there was nowhere to go. They skidded to a halt near a red train car as a group of armed men surrounded them, Gareth included.

"Fight us and you die," he said.

Mason fixed him with her blackest glare. The bloodlust was back, hammering through under her skin in fevered waves. As their attackers closed in, she slapped her hand into Eugene's and pulled him back, but a burly man in a red hat yanked him away.

"No. _No_!"

A scraggly-haired woman pressed a gun to Mason's temple. "Make a move, bitch."

She wasn't afraid of the woman shooting her, but when Red Hat pressed his gun to Eugene's head she fell absolutely still. Her insides whirled with panic but there was nothing, _nothing,_ she could do.

One by one, her group was led to the train car. Maggie's poncho was ripped from her shoulders. Glenn's backpack was taken, as well as the watch Hershel had given him. Her outrage reached its peak when Red Hat slammed Eugene against the train car and stripped him of his riot gear.

She took an unconscious step forward and Scraggle Hair elbowed her in the gut.

"Wait your turn."

When they came for her, she snarled at them. Her veins were hot with fury. She was surprised she didn't scorch them.

There was nothing to take from her, so she was marched straight to the train car and shoved roughly inside.

Eugene caught her, and for the first time it was him pushing her back, away from the door.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "Did they hurt you?"

"I'm okay," he said. His trembling voice made her want to tear the world apart.

As if reading her thoughts, he grabbed her hand warningly.

Nearly everyone was inside. Glenn and Maggie hovered over Tara, who clutched her injured knee. Sasha stood rigid in one corner, and Bob whispered urgently in her ear as though talking her down from something stupid.

Abraham was the last. He fought like a bear the whole time. It took four of them just to wrestle him inside.

As soon as he crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut and they were left in darkness.

~m~

" _I should've seen it glow_

 _but everybody knows_

 _that a broken heart is blind,_

 _that a broken heart is blind._ "


	23. TKO

Hey, guys! Today's chapter title is "TKO" by Bassnectar (feat. Rye Rye and Zion I). It's probably not everyone's cup of tea, but it is definitely a kickass song, so perfect for this stage in the story. As always, a big thank you to all my reviewers and supporters, you guys are awesome! (Also, DampishPoet, you're so right about the Kayley Kiyoko song, it is great! And lindir's gaze, I'm so happy you caught my reference!) Until next time, hope you enjoy!

23\. TKO

" _Master catastrophe, where the dance at?_

 _Ring the alarm, I'm comin' to impact…_ "

~m~

Night fell but no one slept. In spite of the stifling heat, they clumped together at one end of the boxcar. Abraham and Mason sat on either side of Eugene, twitchy with rage neither of them could vent. Eugene held Mason's hand the whole time. She thought maybe he was afraid to let go, for his own sake or hers, she didn't know. Maybe both.

Dawn broke but no one stirred. They listened intently for any sound, because whatever reason Terminus had for stuffing them in a train car it was not simply to let them rot. They were to be used for something.

Around noon, someone came with powdered milk and bread. Abraham loomed threateningly as they opened the door, but the men were prepared- sixteen of them trooped inside with guns at the ready to make sure they did nothing stupid.

They sat in a brooding huddle to eat their meager lunch. While they did, Eugene whispered in her ear.

"Best theory wins."

She didn't have to ask to know what he meant. She kept her voice low.

"They're feeding us. They didn't have to. Walker bait."

"It very well could be. Or what about recruitment? There's every possibility they might want us for slave labor."

"Yeah, although…it doesn't really have the look of a labor camp."

"Maybe it's a case of mistaken identity? Maybe they think we wronged them in some way when in actuality it was a completely separate group." Eugene seemed eager to believe this theory.

"If it were, they would've taken some of us away for questioning. Or killed someone to make an example."

Mason thought a minute and then smirked humorlessly.

"Maybe they're going to eat us."

It wasn't much of a joke and neither of them laughed. They quit theorizing after that, too spooked by their own suspicions.

Another night rolled in, and this time they were too tired to resist sleeping. When Mason awoke it was sometime before dawn. Eugene's head rested on her left shoulder and Tara's on her right. She sat immobile, unwilling to disturb them, and met Abraham's gaze across the train car.

His eyes blazed. She could almost smell his bloodlust and it riled her own.

Neither of them said a word and neither of them had to. The violence in their eyes was a promise.

~m~

The gunshots came around noon, peppery and indistinct at first but drawing steadily closer.

Everyone leapt to their feet, all previous despair gone in a sudden wave of energy. They held their breath as the cacophony bore down on their train car and suddenly halted.

 _They're herding someone else,_ Mason realized.

Shouts came from the direction of the main building, none of them distinguishable. This was followed by four sets of footsteps, each of which came to a halt outside the door. They waited in tense silence.

Light blinded them as the door opened. A man stepped inside, followed by another.

Followed by a woman with dreadlocks.

And a kid in a sheriff's hat.

Mason couldn't breathe. She couldn't believe it. Her hand slid limply from Eugene's, hardly able to care as the door shut once more.

"Rick," she whispered.

He peered through the gloom at her, at the rest of their family clustering around her, and something distinct and bittersweet clicked into place.

"You're here," he said. " _You're here_."

Unable to speak, Mason just nodded, swallowing the salt of her tears.

Rick's eyes narrowed, focused on the strangers behind her. She edged toward Tara and Eugene to show they were no threat.

"They're our friends," Maggie said. "They helped save us."

"Now they're friends of ours."

The familiar voice sent a shard through Mason's chest. _Daryl._

Daryl, but no Beth.

Suddenly it was hard to breathe.

Abraham huffed in response. "For however long that'll be," he said darkly.

"No."

The storm in Rick's voice sent a ripple through the group. He looked at each of them. Blood on his face. Fire in his eyes. Then he spoke.

"They're gonna feel pretty stupid when they find out."

"Find out what?" Abraham growled.

"They're fucking with the wrong people."

~m~

Everyone set to work fast but Mason took a moment to seek Daryl out. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and he did the same, holding her like he was afraid to let go.

"Beth," she breathed.

Daryl stiffened, and this reaction made the air turn to glass in her lungs. She swayed on her feet. He leaned away and grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

"She ain't dead," he growled.

The relief was overwhelming. She slumped against the wall and dug her nails into her shirt, right over her heart. Her fingers clenched and unclenched in time to her pulse.

"Not dead," she whispered. "Then where is she?"

Daryl's eyes darkened. "I don't know. We got separated and this car drove away with her in it."

"What car?"

"A black car with a white cross painted on it."

Her fingers stilled over her chest.

 _Someone took her. Someone took my Beth. What if she's locked in a fucking train car like me?_

"I'm sorry, Mason. I tried to follow it. I tried."

Daryl's voice brought her back, so choked with anguish he could barely get the words out. Mason sat up and grabbed his hands.

"I know," she said. "I know you would've done anything to protect her. It's not your fault."

Reluctantly he looked at her, blinking over-bright eyes and chewing agitatedly on his lip.

"She's alive," Mason said. "She's out there somewhere, and we're going to find her. But we need to get out of this fucking box first."

After a long pause, Daryl nodded. Then he reached into his pocket and put something in her hand.

"We didn't use it. Wanted to save the battery."

It was silly, but holding her iPod after so long felt like reconciling another piece of the puzzle.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Mason…you should know. When we find her, she's gonna be alive. She's a fighter."

Mason smiled. "I know."

~m~

"Mason, I am not a figher-"

"Shut. Up."

"You cannot seriously expect-"

"Eugene. Do you just have no concept of what _shut up_ means? Now hold out your hands."

Eugene watched pensively as she slid sharpened buttons between his fingers and wrapped his hands with strips of cloth to keep them in place.

"If anyone comes at you, go for their eyes," she instructed. "Do as much damage as you can."

"Mason, really, I am extremely uncomfortable with this." Eugene swallowed, staring at his hands as if they'd grown warts. "I…I won't be any help out there."

Mason touched his shoulder. "Hey. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. No one fucks with my nerd, remember?"

"What about you? What are-"

"Alright."

Everyone looked up as Daryl spoke, peeking through the slim bit of space between the door and the wall.

"We got four of them pricks comin' our way."

Everyone gathered immediately, some of them only half-finished with their makeshift weapons.

"You all know what to do," Rick said. "Go for their eyes first. Then their throats."

"Put your backs to the walls at either end of the car," someone shouted from outside. " _Now!_ "

No one obeyed. The train car crackled, the bottled lightning of ready vengeance. They waited breathlessly for the door to open.

It never did.

A hatch in the ceiling slid open and something clattered to the floor. There was no time to react. The smoke bomb exploded and the world turned to choking white.

Mason fell to her knees, doubled over with racking coughs. Her consciousness wavered in and out.

"They…they took Rick," Michonne coughed as the smoke cleared.

Terror ran a jagged spike through her lungs. Dizzily she scrambled to her feet, using the wall for support.

"Eugene," she croaked.

"Present," came the weak reply.

"Bob's gone, too," Sasha said. "And Daryl."

"Glenn," Maggie added in a distant voice.

 _Shit._

Mason helped Eugene to his feet and let her panic smolder into rage.

"What do we do?" Tara said.

"The plan hasn't changed," Mason growled. "We're fighting our way out."

~m~

A booming shockwave rattled the train car some fifteen minutes later, startling everyone out of their grim preparations.

"What in Satan's asshole was that?"

Abraham darted to the door but could see nothing. The woodpecker tap of gunfire started up a moment later. "What the hell is going on out there?" he seethed.

Sasha paced back and forth behind him. "Maybe our people got free."

Before anyone could respond, Eugene pushed past her with the empty bomb casing in hand. Mason frowned as he knelt by the door.

"What are you doing?"

"I might be able to use this shell to compromise the door. From the sound of things there may not be anyone left to open it."

"Eugene," Tara said. "I'm sorry but shut up."

"Hey." Carl looked evenly at Eugene. "My dad's gonna be back. They all are."

"They are," Maggie agreed. "And we need to get ready to fight our way out with them when they do."

Abraham and Rosita still looked doubtful, and Mason wished she could explain to them the kind of man Rick was. Instead she sat next to Eugene and turned on her iPod. There was little over half of the battery life left, but she already knew which song she was looking for. She pulled it up and locked it, so that it would be ready when the fighting started.

It was just smart, she'd once told Beth. _You know, in case you ever get in a fight and need some really badass background music._ Mason smiled.

After a while, Sasha looked up. "What's the cure, Eugene?"

"That's classified."

Michonne narrowed her eyes. "We don't know what's gonna happen."

"You leave him be," Abraham growled.

Mason nodded firmly. "We need to keep working."

But Sasha was not satisfied. "It's time to hear it. Because we don't know what's next."

"What's next is we get out of this."

"Even if I told you all, even I provided step-by-step instructions complete with illustrations and a well-composed FAQ and I went red-ring, the cure would still die with me."

"I'm not gonna let that happen," Abraham said.

"The best case scenario we step into a hell-storm of bullets, fire and walkers. I'm not fleet of foot. I sure as hell can't take a dead one down with sharp buttons and hella confidence."

He aimed this last at Mason, who silently flipped him off.

"Yeah, but we can," Michonne said. "And we will."

"You don't owe us anything," Sasha said. "Not yet. But we just want to hear it."

Still Eugene hesitated. Mason raised an eyebrow as he looked at her, unable to deny her own curiosity. Finally, he stood and addressed them all.

"I was part of a ten-person team at the Human Genome Project to weaponize diseases to fight weaponized diseases," he said. "Pathogenic microorganisms against pathogenic microorganisms. Fire with fire. Interdepartmental drinks were had, relationships made, information shared. I am keenly aware of all the details behind fail-safe delivery systems to kill every living person on this planet. I believe with a little tweaking on the terminals in D.C., we can flip the script. Take out every last dead one of them. Fire with fire."

Listening to this, Mason bubbled with pride. As he continued, they smirked at each other.

"All things being equal, it does sound pretty badass."

It was then that the moment they'd waited for finally came. The shouting and gunshots closed in. Everyone leapt to their feet. Mason pressed play on her iPod, turned the volume up as high as it would go, and stashed it in her pocket. As the music started, Abraham chuckled fiercely.

The door slammed open and there was Rick, covered in blood, looming out of a haze of smoke like a war god. Mason grinned a feral grin.

" _Come on!_ " he rallied. " _We fight to the fence!_ "

Mason grabbed Eugene's wrist. "Stay close to me or Abraham. Go for the throat if you have to."

Fear clouded his eyes but he managed to nod. She gave him an encouraging squeeze. Then she jumped out of the train car.

The world was a mess of walkers and smoke. The dead ones came out of the smog like sparks, half of them flickering torches and the others bearing wounds from shrapnel. The group axed through their ranks. Mason took the lead with Rick and Glenn.

She was snake-savage and precise from all the days spent training. The cloth strips padding her knuckles soaked through quickly with blood. Walkers were easy now. They were target practice. It was not them she was antsy to meet.

When the woman crossed her path, the scraggle-haired woman from before, she lunged.

Her blood buzzed with retribution. Her teeth bared in a smile that had Scraggle's eyes bulging with panic.

"Please…please!"

But there was no room in her for mercy.

Mason sent a dizzying kick into the woman's stomach, and another to her head while she was doubled over. Scraggle toppled to the ground. Mason grabbed the gun from her belt and shot her in the head.

The others streamed toward the fence, with Bob and Daryl on either side to cover their flanks. Mason fought her way back to orbit around Rick. Together they moved with the practiced fluidity of old war comrades. It filled her with ferocious happiness, fighting alongside her family again. She was a meteor, pinballing from obstacle to obstacle, crashing joyfully in a shower of blood.

She was almost to the gate when she saw him. The man in the red hat. She jarred to a halt.

"Mason. Come on."

Almost everyone had made it over the fence, excluding Rick and Abraham. They were calling her name but she couldn't tear her eyes from that man, who was holding his own against the walkers.

"Goddammit, Mason, get the lead out of your ass and _move_!"

In her mind she saw him slamming Eugene against the train car. Holding a gun to his head. Her muscles went taut with rage. She moved before she could think better of it, ignoring Rick's protests and Abraham's cursing.

She cut a beeline through the walkers, back the way she'd come. Red Hat hadn't noticed her yet, too busy piercing through a knot of dead ones blocking the way to a door. Mason increased her pace.

Just before she reached the door, she darted in front of it. Red Hat startled at the sight of her bloody silhouette.

"Shit!"

She punched him in the throat and whatever else he might have said choked into silence. Knocking the hat off of his head, she grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face into the building.

When she pulled him back, his nose was broken, his eyes rolling woozily. She bent down to whisper in his ear.

"Don't fuck with my nerd."

Then she threw him to the walkers.

His screams rent the air as she turned away, but they quickly dissolved into gurgles. She wondered if a better person would've felt some form of remorse, but all she felt was deeply satisfied. Nobody fucked with her family.

" _Mason_!"

Rick shot a hole through the reconvening walkers and grabbed her hand. As he pulled her through, Abraham covered them.

"I swear to fuck, girl, you are lucky I don't hand-feed you to those cold and crispies over there."

"Sorry," she said, sounding very, very not sorry.

When they reached the gate, Abraham lifted her up to the burlap tarp draped across the razor wire. She vaulted to the other side, stumbling a little to keep from jarring her bones.

"Mason!"

She jumped in surprise when Eugene swept her into a tight embrace.

"Hey, my guy. You okay?"

He held her out in front of him, and the desperation in his eyes pained her.

"Why…why did you go back?"

"I just spotted a friend. Had to pay him a visit."

Eugene swallowed, clearly working hard to calm down. After a moment, he held shaky hands up for her to see.

"I remembered what you said. Eyes first."

Mason grinned proudly at the walker blood soaking his knuckles. Half of the buttons were missing, a testament to the force behind his attack.

"See?" she said. "You _are_ a fighter."

" _Come on_!" Abraham shouted, reminding Mason of where they were. She and Eugene darted after the rest of the group, through the trees along the fence. They only stopped when Daryl pointed to a place up ahead. Rick seemed to know exactly what he was talking about but Mason didn't understand what was so significant until he started to dig.

"The hell are we still around here for?" Abraham demanded.

"Guns," Rick said. "Some supplies. We'll go along the fences. Use the rifles to take out the rest of them."

Mason agreed instantly but it looked as though she was the only one. Everyone else exchanged apprehensive glances.

Bob stepped forward. "What?"

Rick looked evenly at him. "They don't get to live."

"Rick, we got out. It's over," Glenn said.

"After they locked us up? Took our shit, threatened to kill us?" Mason said.

"It's not over until they're all dead," Rick agreed.

"The hell it isn't, that place is on _fire_ ," Rosita said. "Full of walkers."

"I'm not dicking around with this crap," Abraham growled. "We just made it out." With this he added a pointed glare at Mason, who bristled and might have snapped a retort if Eugene hadn't wrapped a hand over hers.

"The fences are down," Maggie said. "They'll run or die."

Rick frowned. It was clear he was not convinced. He glanced at Mason, who shook her head, and then at Daryl, whose opinion they never learned. He was distracted by a sound behind them, and Mason tensed before she saw the person standing there, looking painfully uncertain.

Daryl ran to her, sweeping Carol into his arms without a word. Mason stared in shock.

"Who's that?" Eugene murmured.

Mason smiled tearfully. "Family."

Carol laughed when Mason hugged her. "Don't go getting all emotional over me," she said.

"You're crying, too."

Then they both were laughing.

"I have something for you," Carol said, and stepped away to hand her her fire poker.

It gave her an irrational sense of relief, being reunited with it. "Thank you," she said.

Carol smiled, then turned back to Rick. "You have to come with me."

Everyone followed Carol through the forest, back to a dirt road by the train tracks. A little shack sat nestled where the dirt road ended, and as they approached the door opened and Tyreese stepped out. In his arms was Little Asskicker.

Rick let out a strangled gasp and sprinted toward them, Carl on his heels. Sasha hurried after them to embrace Tyreese. Mason swallowed the lump in her throat, but the tears came anyway.

Everyone waited some distance away to give them their time together. Mason looked at all of the faces who had become so dear to her at the prison. The whole family was nearly reunited. The absence of Beth was a raw hole in her heart, but she was confident now, she was _certain_ , that they would find her.

Then she looked at Eugene.

He was not smiling like the others. His face was pinched in an expression she recognized instantly. She had lived inside of that emotion for nearly a year after Gina's death, and it had never truly abandoned her.

It was guilt.

It didn't make sense, but there it was. And Mason slowly began to realize that there were still so many things about him that she didn't know about him.

She didn't question him about it. She pretended not to notice as she took her hand and gave him a reassuring squeeze, just as she'd done before leaping from the train car.

Her family was here. They could figure out the rest together.


	24. Heathens

Hey, guys, I'm back with a new chapter and holy crap it's a long one. That's part of why it took me a little longer to post. There's so much I wanted to fit into this one and I'm really excited about it, because it's sort of special in the sense that it's the title chapter. I really wanted this chapter to embody Rick's group and who they all are at this point in the story. Anyway, enough nerdy stuff! The chapter title is of course "Heathens" by twenty one pilots, and it's a really amazing song with amazing lyrics that are PERFECT for the story. I truly hope you guys enjoy. Until I get the next chapter out, thank you all for your awesome support and let me know what you think!

24\. Heathens

" _Welcome to the room of people_

 _who have rooms of people that they loved one day,_

 _locked away._

 _Just because we check the guns at the door_

 _doesn't mean our brains will change from hand grenades._ "

~m~

It was their second day on the road, and despite all they'd escaped everyone was in high spirits, or at least they were on the outside. They weaved between the road and the train tracks, and camped in the woods at night. Mason migrated among them- hunting with Daryl, keeping watch with Carol, walking with Rick so she could hold Little Asskicker.

She always ended up returning to Eugene and Tara, who both seemed uncertain among the others. It was easy to puzzle out the source of Tara's guilt. Mason made a concerted effort to ease her anxiety as much as she could, though she knew it would just take time.

Eugene was a mystery. Whenever he thought no one was looking, his face turned bleak. It pained her to see him so distressed but she didn't know how to bring it up without prying. She tried to keep his mind on lighter things instead.

Still, despite the outward cheer, it was obvious that things beneath the surface had changed. Mason thought about it late at night when sleep was late in coming. Her family was broken. That was clear. Everything they'd endured at the prison, and everything they'd gone through to find each other again- which some of them remained rather tight-lipped about- had tried to destroy them. And maybe it would have in the end if things had gone differently, but they were together now. They would mend together.

On the second night, Daryl and Carol took watch so Mason settled down next to Eugene. It felt so natural now she didn't even think of it. She did notice, however, the uncharacteristic distance in his eyes.

"I've been thinking a lot about Jason Vorhees' face," she said.

As she was hoping, Eugene gave her a look that questioned her sanity.

"That's your ideal man, is it?"

Mason grinned. "Sure is. A slammin' body _and_ a sparkling personality?"

"Not to mention his face."

"Yes, his face. His many faces. His weird-ass fucking faces, oh my god."

"The eighth was the most ridiculous, both in movie quality and facial construction."

"That was the one where he went to New York, right?"

"Right you are, sister."

"Okay, I'm not gonna lie, that was one of my favorites. It was just such an 80's cheeseball, I love it. But in all seriousness the creepiest face was either four or seven."

"Absolute agreement. It was not uncommon at all for that ugly mug to feature in my nightmares. At least in my younger years."

She elbowed him teasingly. "Admit it, you still have nightmares about him."

"Full transparency, I wish I did. But that's not what my nightmares are about anymore."

He said this last quietly and there it was again, that distance. Mason frowned.

"I know something's bothering you," she said before she could stop herself. "Do you…I mean, you can talk to me about it, you know. If you want. We talk about everything else anyway."

Eugene glanced at her, and the anguish on his face was a sharp twist in her gut.

"Mason, you know very well that I hold you in the highest regard. And truly…there's no one else I'd rather tell…"

He trailed off, wringing his hands convulsively. Instinctively she reached out and held them in her own.

"I…I just…"

His chin trembled a little and tears pricked behind her eyes. She tightened her grip enough to hurt, enough to feel his pulse align with hers.

"I keep thinking about those people," he finally said. "About what they would have done to us, and how it was my fault."

"… _What_?"

Mason glared at him so venomously that he leaned away, clearly surprised by her reaction.

"What do you mean what?"

"I'm sorry, I guess I should've made myself clearer, I meant 'how the fuck could you have come up with such an asinine idea, it's complete dickfuckery'?"

Eugene blinked. "Okay, bullet point one: you and Abraham truly are cut from the same profane stone. Bullet point two: it's not dickfuckery at all. I'm the one who suggested the campaign into the snake pit in the first place. I'm the one who convinced you all to…to accompany me there."

"Bullshit! We _all_ agreed to go. Subtract you from the equation and we _still_ would have gone. We had to try."

"But that's not… Mason, I…I should've seen. It's not just what could've happened."

He paused to take a breath, like the words were too heavy, like they fought to stay inside him.

"Eight people," he said. "Eight people died to get me where I am right now. Their hearts stopped pumping blood so mine could and that… It's like…"

"They're haunting you," Mason finished. "Like you carry them around on your back and you can't stop because it's the least you can do for them, right?"

"Yes," he whispered.

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but at the last second he shut his mouth. Mason shook her head.

"Those people _chose_ to go with you. They chose what they were willing to die for. That's all you can ask for these days. Christ, Eugene, do you even know what you did for _me_? Don't you remember what I was like when I first met you?"

Something flickered in his eyes. A memory. "You were…you were like Abraham when I first met him," he said. "Angry."

"Yes, and I was ready to let it eat me up, too," she replied. "My feet were dangling over the edge and the rest of me was about to follow, but then there _you_ were. You pulled me back."

He stared at her, apparently at a loss as to what to say.

"Eugene, you are officially one of my favorite people in the whole world and fuck whatever else happens," she said. "I will watch you Superman us the hell out of this shit, or I will die for you. And I will be happy with either."

"I don't want you to die for me," he said.

Mason grinned. "Let's just both agree to stay alive then, coolioz?"

"Coolioz."

Mason kept the conversation on mindless nonsense after that, until both of them fell asleep. When she awoke in the middle of the night, with Eugene snuggled up next to her, she didn't move away. His arm was wrapped around her midriff and his face was pressed to her back, and she could feel the occasional shudder of the sobs he failed to suppress.

Wordlessly she laced her fingers through his, and stayed awake with him until the tears ran dry.

~m~

Neither of them mentioned it the next day. Mason kept up a cheery façade to bury the awkwardness. This eventually led to her telling jokes to make Eugene laugh, each with increasing desperation as they failed.

"Goddammit, why are you so damn deadpan all the time?" she fumed.

"It was a requirement at the lab where I worked. Science is serious, missy."

"I can be serious."

"Oh, you can? What does the sign on an out-of-business brothel say?"

"Um…"

"We're closed. Beat it."

Mason snorted, then clamped her mouth shut. Carl shook his head.

"C'mon, Mason, I thought you were mature."

She gaped in mock outrage. "Who is the adult here?"

"Literally everyone else except you."

"You know what, fuck you, you short little cowboy. And fuck you, too, Eugene, that was just a courtesy laugh. I'm gonna be absolutely serious from here on out."

Behind them, Abraham chuckled. "Anyone else here smell bullshit?"

Mason glared. "Yeah, but we've gotten used to you."

"I bet Eugene here can get you to laugh before the day is out."

"I'll take that bet."

"I'm with Abraham," Rosita announced.

"Me, too," Carl said.

"Oh, thanks for the support, guys."

"They're just using their thinking caps," Abraham said. "Eugene can always make you laugh. It's simple logic."

"It's science," Eugene agreed.

"Yeah, fuck you guys."

As the morning went on, this wager escalated until nearly everyone had a stake in it. Even Daryl muttered his support of Eugene.

"What the hell, Daryl?"

"Mason. I know you."

Only Bob and Sasha were on her side, claiming that she had more maturity than the others were giving her credit for. Which only made everyone else laugh. By midday, Mason had realized two things: Eugene was really fucking hilarious, and she was going to absolutely fucking lose.

The scream came like a bucket of ice water, shocking them out of their levity. Everyone stopped, reaching automatically for their weapons.

" _Help! Somebody please!_ "

Rick stood rigid, his face dark with suspicion, but Carl tugged on his arm.

"Dad, c'mon. _Come on_."

Nobody moved until Rick did, hissing at them all to stay together. They rushed through the trees in a tight amoeba until they saw the rock, surrounded by a cluster of walkers, all of them fixated on the man crouched on top.

Mason went with Rick, Daryl and Carol to dispatch the walkers and then fell back to cover Eugene. There didn't seem to be any other immediate threats in the area but she wasn't taking any chances.

"Come on down," Rick said to the man, who was dressed as a preacher. He slithered down from the rock and stood trembling before the group.

"You okay?" Rick asked.

The man's lips trembled a little before he doubled over and vomited. Mason exchanged a disgusted glance with Rosita.

"Sorry," the man said. "Uh, yes. Thank you. I'm Gabriel-"

"Do you have any weapons on you?"

Gabriel looked genuinely shocked. "Do I look like I have any weapons?"

"We don't give two short and curlies what it looks like," Abraham said.

"I have no weapons of any kind," Gabriel said, and then he drew himself up like he was regathering strength. "The word of God is the only protection I need."

Mason narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Daryl snorted.

"It sure didn't look like it."

Nervously, Gabriel smiled. "I called for help," he said. "Help came."

Nobody said anything. They all continued to examine this weaponless survivor, who grew more nervous at their relentless scrutiny.

"Do you…have any food?" he asked. "Whatever, uh, I had left just hit the ground."

Carl was the only one to step forward, offering a handful of pecans, but the whole group tensed when Gabriel smiled at Little Asskicker.

"Do you, uh…do you have a camp?"

"No. Do you?" Rick was no-nonsense, his head tilted in that way of his.

"I have a church."

"Hold your hands above your head."

Gabriel trembled but obviously thought better of disputing him. Roughly, Rick patted him down.

"How many walkers have you killed?"

"Uh…not any, actually."

"How many people have you killed?"

"None." Again, Gabriel sounded shocked. Too shocked, like he was overcompensating.

Rick finished the pat down, but though he found no weapons everyone remained on edge.

"Why?"

"Because the lord abhors violence."

"What have you done?" Rick growled. "We've all done something."

Gabriel looked from face to face, and Mason could only imagine what he saw. Feral shadows, grungy with blood and grime, prickling with weapons. She couldn't summon up an ounce of pity, however. Not after Terminus. Not after everything. He needed to know how dangerous they were. He needed to be scared.

"I am a sinner," he finally said. "I sin almost every day. But those sins, I confess them to God. Not strangers."

"You said you had a church?" Michonne said.

Gabriel nodded. Rick looked back at the group to read their faces and then he said, "Good. You're gonna take us to it."

~m~

Mason and the rest of the council members inspected the church while the others waited outside with the preacher. Their silence was tense but companionable, and it struck her just how easily they all moved as a harmonized unit, like a flock of birds or pack of wolves.

Finding nothing dangerous inside, they stepped out to summon the rest of the group.

"I spent months without stepping out the front door, if you found someone inside…well, it would've been surprising," Gabriel said.

Rick said nothing but it was clear from his expression that his attempt at a joke was just another strike against the preacher.

"Thanks for this," Carl said, choosing to ignore his dad's hostility. Gabriel nodded appreciatively and disappeared inside.

"We found a bus out back," Abraham said. "It don't run, but I bet we could fix that in less than a day or two. Father here says he doesn't want it. Looks like we found ourselves some transport."

Rick didn't respond at first. He ran a hand over Judith's gossamer locks several times but his eyes were distant.

"You do understand what's at stake here, don't you?" Abraham continued. Mason threw him an exasperated glare.

"Yes, I do," Rick murmured.

"Now that we can take a breath?" Michonne argued.

"We take a breath, we slow down, shit inevitably gets cocked."

"We need supplies. No matter what we do next."

As though Michonne's words were a wake-up call, Rick nodded assertively. "That's right. Water, food, ammunition."

"That bus ain't goin' nowhere," Daryl agreed, following him into the church.

It was clear Abraham would've liked to argue more, but Glenn spoke up before he could.

"One way or another, we're doing what Rick does. We're not splitting up again."

Tara, Sasha and Bob voiced their agreement, but Mason stayed silent. Now that they'd had a few days to recover, the mission had returned to forefront of Abraham's mind. Just as Mason's had returned to hers. And it began to dawn on her with a sinking horror that whatever happened next, she was going to have to leave some of them behind.

"Hey. Killer." Gently, Eugene elbowed her. "You alright?"

She didn't know how to say what she was thinking, so she just nodded. It wasn't very convincing but Eugene didn't pry, for which she was grateful.

"So I've been tossing an idea around in my head ever since the saturnalia with our friendly neighborhood cannibals," he continued. "I was wondering if you might be interested in assisting me."

Mason raised an eyebrow. "What kind of idea?"

"Well, as Rick said there is water that needs to be gathered, and as you seem to be the prime expert at finding it I thought you could assist me in the gathering. While we're out I teach you how to build water filters, and you teach me how to fight."

It shocked her so much, and reminded her so vividly of the last time someone had asked the same thing, that she flinched visibly.

"You…what?" she gasped.

"I understand that it is an out-of-character request, and by no means am I asking for balls to the wall special ops drills. But I…I should know how to defend myself."

Mason swallowed. "Of course you should."

"So will you? I couldn't think of a better teacher."

"Um, hello?" Abraham demanded. "My happy ass has been here from the start."

"Yeah, but you're a grisly man and Mason's a beautiful woman," Rosita said with a smirk.

Abraham nodded sagely while Mason and Eugene displayed an aptitude for blushing in unison.

"That has nothing to do with it," Eugene muttered. "Mason and I just-"

"Play well together?" Abraham grinned. "Look, you two go off, do your thing, but you find yourselves straying too far, you book it back here. Me and Rosita'll be fixing up that bus. You run into any unfriendlies out there, we'll be within shouting distance."

"I'll start yodeling maniacally if we need backup," Mason said.

"I'll scream like a frightened schoolgirl," Eugene said.

"See? Playing together like two harmonious violas."

~m~

Mason watched in fascination as Eugene constructed the water filter, layering a water bottle with cloth, sand, and beds of gravel in increasing size. The water went in muddy brown and came out clear.

"That's really cool," she said. "But you know, I would've taught you anyway."

"I'm a bargaining man by nature," he said. "Plus I think given the precarious state of affairs that everyone should learn all they can learn about survival. I'll teach you how to make a battery next."

Mason stared quietly at the stream where they crouched, screaming internally while her stomach twisted in anguish.

"Okay, you did this for me, so now I'm doing it for you," Eugene said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just tired."

"Sorry, but I am calling bullshit on that."

"It's not bullshit."

"It's the oldest line in the book."

"You see these?" Mason pointed to the shadows under her eyes. "It's not bullshit."

"I am well aware that there is something else on your mind. And you don't have to tell me, but…you're my favorite person in the world. If you think there's a chance I can help, I'm right here."

His words were faltering but genuine. Mason's eyes stung with tears.

"Thank you," she murmured. "But you…can't help me with this. Eugene, I have to find Beth. I have to find her. Daryl said she was taken by someone. What if those people are like Terminus? What if they're holding her hostage somewhere?"

"Daryl also said they were overrun by walkers. What if they were trying to save her?"

Mason smiled slightly. "Best theory wins?"

Eugene stared pensively at the water filter, like it could somehow sift through the issue itself.

"Maybe…I could convince Abraham-"

Mason barked a laugh. "Eugene, there is no convincing a bull not to kill you, you feel me?"

"But I would help you look for Beth. There has to be a compromise."

"Sometimes there isn't."

They sat in silence for a while, Mason in despair, Eugene in desperation. The filter dripped intermittently like it was marking time. Eventually Mason sighed and stood up.

"We should get to training if we're going to," she said.

Eugene stood, too, his brow creased pensively. "I'm going to think of something."

"Okay, but it's going to make it a lot easier for me to eat you."

"What?"

Mason grinned. "I'm a walker. Come at me."

~m~

Mason and Eugene returned to the church around sunset to find that the group who'd gone out to find food had been wildly successful. Everyone pitched in to make dinner, Gabriel even donated several bottles of wine, and by the time night fell a full-fledged feast was underway.

Laughter and chatter and the flicker of candlelight warmed the small building. Though she was eager to eat, Mason kept pausing every few bites to look around. It was the first she'd seen her family all together, all happy, since the prison. Joy and despair warred for dominance in her chest.

 _How do I always find myself in this goddamn position?_ she wondered. _Unable to stay, unwilling to leave._

"I'd like to propose a toast," Abraham announced over the noise. Everyone quieted and took their seats, looking at him expectantly.

"I look around this room, and I see survivors. Each and every one of you has earned that title." He smiled and lifted his glass. "To the survivors."

The others followed suit, hooting their pride like a band of coyotes. Mason grinned and clinked her glass with Eugene's.

"Is that all you wanna be?"

The silence that fell this time was noticeably strained. Everyone glanced at each other uncertainly, apparently at a loss as how to answer.

"Wake up in the morning," Abraham continued. "Fight the undead pricks, forage for food, go to sleep at night, two eyes open, rinse and repeat? 'Cause you could do that. You got the strength, you go the skill. Thing is, for you people, for what you can do? That's just surrender."

Mason frowned down at her plate. She wished he wouldn't insist on talking about this now, when she was hoping to have one last moment of peace. She wished that last wasn't getting to her. _Surrender._ Was that was this was? Was that what Beth would think it was?

 _I just wish…_

"Now, we get Eugene to Washington and he will make the dead die and the living will have this world again and that is not a bad takeaway for a little road trip."

 _I wish you didn't have to be good at this…_

"Eugene."

… _at what living is now._

"What's in D.C.?"

Eugene tensed at Abraham's prompting, but after a moment he stood and addressed the group.

"Infrastructure constructed to withstand pandemics even of this fubar magnitude," he said. "That means food, fuel, refuge. Restart."

 _I wish I could give you a different world, Beth._

Mason closed her eyes. She had said that, hadn't she? And she'd meant it. God, she'd fucking meant it.

"However this plays out," Abraham said, "however long it takes for the reset button to kick in, you can be safe there. Safer than you've been since this whole thing started. Come with us."

 _I wish_

"Save the world for that little one."

 _I could give you_

"Save it for yourselves."

 _a different world_

"Save it for the people out there who got nothing left to do except survive."

 _Beth_

Everyone looked at Rick, who looked at each of them in turn and then finally at Little Asskicker, who seemed pleased with all the attention. She cooed excitedly and Rick chuckled.

"I think she knows what I'm about to say," he said. "She's in. If she's in, I'm in. We're in."

The tension dissolved immediately in a smattering of applause and laughter. Mason deflated, but she couldn't tell if it was from relief or desolation. Eugene nudged her gently and they exchanged a silent look that no one else could read.

"So, you two violas."

Abraham plopped down on the pew in front of them. Now that he'd gotten what he wanted, a goofy grin brightened his features.

"Happy hunting?"

Mason cleared her throat and scraped her fork distractedly through her food, which suddenly had all the appeal of a month-dead possum.

"Yes, actually. Eugene caught a walker. It took him twelve tries but he got it."

Abraham raised an eyebrow. "Twelve tries, huh? Not much of a golfer, were you."

Mason frowned. "It should also be noted," she growled, "that he managed to take down this walker by throwing a knife right through its eye. So, yeah, fuck you."

Rosita looked shocked. "Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"I can only take partial credit," Eugene said. "I would not have known the proper technique for knife throwing if not for having such an excellent teacher."

Abraham waved his arms dismissively. "I think we're all forgetting the most important question here, and that is: have you made her laugh yet?"

"Oh, yeah, I've got a lot riding on this!" Rosita said.

"Like what?" Mason demanded.

"Like, two cans of peaches."

"The laugh is still forthcoming, as I did not see fit to win the bet with no witnesses," Eugene explained.

"Alright, work your magic then," Abraham said.

So Eugene launched right into it, and despite Mason's bleak mood, despite the fact that there was a pit growing larger and larger in her stomach, the others were right. Five jokes in and she was fighting not to laugh.

 _This is fucking ridiculous,_ she thought. _You're not a child._

But everyone was smiling, bright-eyed and cheerful.

Besides, she was competitive as fuck.

"A man walks into a zoo," Eugene said, deadpan as ever. "The only animal in the entire zoo is a dog. It's a shitzu."

Mason bit down hard to keep her lips from twitching. Nobody was fooled, however.

"She's gonna crack," Abraham said. Carl, Tara and Michonne, who had wandered over to see what the commotion was about, all murmured their agreement.

She flipped them off rather violently and focused all of her energy on frowning with equal aggression.

Eugene examined her for a minute, and she felt a twist of apprehension at the thoughtful cunning in his eyes. Finally, he cleared his throat.

"Apologies, but this one is not appropriate for all ears," he said. Then he leaned close to Mason and whispered, "What do you call a masturbating cow?"

 _Goddammit, shut the fuck up, you motherfucking son-of-a-bitching-_

"Beef strokin' off."

The giggles broke through all of her defenses. Everyone cheered. Mason punched Eugene on the shoulder and he smirked.

"Guys."

Everyone looked up at the urgency in Sasha's voice.

"Have you seen Bob? I can't find him."

"He stepped out, didn't he?" Tara said. "He said he needed some air."

This did nothing to soothe Sasha's nerves, so Mason and Tara volunteered to help her search. But the woods were dark and empty, home only to a few walkers.

"Where is he?" Sasha hissed.

Mason laid a hand on her shoulder. "We'll find him."

"Maybe he's back at the church," Tara suggested.

When they returned, however, the others were still searching. Rick met them at the front door.

"Daryl and Carol are gone, too," he told them.

Anxiety twisted Mason's stomach. Sasha's eyes glinted steel and fire before she slammed open the church doors and marched inside.

She stopped a few feet from Gabriel, taking on a stance that could only be described as feral.

"What are you doing?"

He flinched and a spoon clattered to the floor. "W-what?"

"This is all connected," she growled. "You show up, we're being watched, and now three of us are gone."

"I…I don't have anything to do with this," he protested.

Sasha pulled her knife from her belt and Gabriel leapt back.

"Don't!" Rosita lunged but Abraham held her back.

"Sasha, put it away," Tyreese ordered, but his sister ignored him. She advanced on Gabriel, who backed up against the pulpit and had nowhere else to go.

"Where are our people?"

"I don't-"

" _Where are our people_?"

"Hey, hey," Rick murmured, tugging Sasha back to take her place. When he looked at Gabriel, however, his expression was no longer soft.

"Why'd you bring us here?"

Gabriel cast around for help, but no one was willing to give it. Mason stood protectively next to Eugene with her fire poker raised, sharply aware of the windows, and how anyone standing outside in the dark could easily see inside.

"Please, I-"

"Are you working with someone?"

"I'm alone! I was always alone."

Rick cocked his head. "What about the woman in the food bank, Gabriel? What did you do to her?"

Mason narrowed her eyes. What woman in the food bank? Clearly it struck a nerve, as Gabriel's face distorted with pain. But Rick wasn't done.

"'You'll burn for this'? That was for you. Why? What are you going to burn for, Gabriel?"

Quick as the strike of a snake, Rick slammed him against the lectern, and only when Gabriel collapsed into terrified sobs did he release him.

"I lock the doors at night. I always, I always lock the doors at night," he stammered. "They started coming, my congregation. Atlanta was bombed the night before and they were scared. They were, they were looking for a safe place. And it was so early, and the doors were still locked.

"It was my choice. There were so many of them and they were trying to pry the shutters and banging on the sidings, screaming at me, and so…the dead came for them. Women…children…entire families calling my name as they were torn apart, begging me for mercy. Damning me to hell.

"I buried their bones. I buried it all. And now the Lord has sent you here to finally punish me."

Heaving with sobs, Gabriel collapsed on the floor. The others stared in horror, in disgust. Sasha sheathed her knife.

"Hey, guys," Glenn interrupted. "There's someone outside lying in the grass."

With a gasp, Sasha rushed outside, ignoring Rick's warning that it might be a trap. Everyone followed except for Abraham and Rosita, who stayed behind to guard Eugene.

" _Bob_!"

Mason's heart stopped at the sight of Bob sprawled on the lawn, one leg missing. Walkers advanced on him, drawn by the smell of blood. Mason, Michonne and Rick leapt in to take them down while Maggie, Tara and Sasha carried Bob inside.

Gunfire came from the woods, sudden and deliberate. A walker's head exploded next to Rick before he could get to it.

"Shit, someone's out there," Mason said.

"Get back inside!" Rick ordered.

There was nothing else to do but listen.

~m~

They laid Bob carefully in the center of the aisle, and he woke up not long after. Sasha touched his cheek with such tenderness that Mason felt awkward watching. Like she was intruding on something.

"Bob," Sasha whispered.

Bob blinked in surprise. "How did you find me?"

"You were lying outside on the lawn," Glenn explained.

"They left me out there…"

"Who?" Rick asked.

Bob's eyes darkened. "Those people. From Terminus."

Mason stiffened and exchanged a loaded glance with Rick. So they'd been right after all. They shouldn't have let them live.

"I was out in the graveyard," Bob continued. "Someone knocked me out and I woke up outside this place…it looked like a school. Gareth was there, and five other ones. I don't know if there were more. They were…eating my leg right in front of me."

Her stomach turned at the thought, but the rest of her boiled with rage.

"Did they have Daryl and Carol?" Rick asked gently.

Bob frowned. "Gareth said they drove off."

 _What the fuck?_

Before anyone could vocalize this sentiment, Bob groaned, sweating profusely. Sasha cradled him delicately.

"He's in pain. Do we have anything?"

"I think there are pill packets in the first aid kit," Rosita said.

"Save 'em," Bob said.

Sasha frowned. "No, Bob-"

" _Really_."

The growl brought everyone up short. Bob never growled. Bob was never angry. As they watched, he sat up and drew the collar of his shirt down, exposing his shoulder.

Exposing the ragged bite there.

Mason's veins iced over. The look on Sasha's face made her feel dizzy.

"It happened at the food bank," he explained quietly, and then slumped in Sasha's arms.

"There's a sofa in my office," Gabriel spoke up. "I know it's not much, but…"

Sasha nodded tearfully. "Thank you."

Tyreese stood. "I got him," he said, and everyone stepped away to give them room. Mason's eyes stung as she watched him carry Bob away. She realized with a jolt that at some point her hand had slipped into Eugene's without her knowing.

Rick approached Gabriel, who to his credit didn't flinch. "Do you know the place Bob was talking about?"

"It's an elementary school. It's close, just a ten minute walk through the woods from here. Due south of the graveyard."

Rick glanced meaningfully at Mason and she nodded. But before either of them could start planning, Abraham spoke up from his watch point at the door.

"Time for a reality check. We all need to leave for D.C. right now."

Mason gritted her teeth. "Abraham, this isn't the time-"

"Oh, this is exactly the time."

"Daryl and Carol are gonna be back," Rick said. "We're not going anywhere without them."

"I respect that, but there's a clear threat here to Eugene. I need to extract his ass before things get any uglier."

Eugene's fingers tightened around Mason's, but she shook free and stood up. "You think we can't protect him? I'm not letting anything happen to him."

"I am not arguing and I am not allowing him to stick around for storm and shit to collide. So if ya'll won't come, good luck to you."

Abraham and Rosita strode for the door, but Eugene stayed put. When he realized this, Abraham barked, "Eugene! Move!"

"I…I don't want to."

" _Now_!"

Eugene fidgeted and then stood up. "Okay."

"No. No. That's bullshit." Mason barred his way, shaking with outrage. "If you don't want to go, you don't have to. He can't make you."

She said this last with a pointed glare in Abraham's direction, a clear assurance that if he were to try, he'd have to go through her first.

Eugene laid his hands on her arms. "Mason. It's okay."

"It's not okay," she insisted. But he shook his head.

"It's okay."

"Eugene. Move your ass."

Mason seethed, barely restraining herself from leaping over the pews and decking Abraham square in his jaw. Watching Eugene go felt like ripping a slice right out of her heart.

"You leaving on foot?" Rick demanded.

Abraham smiled, but there was nothing friendly about it. "We fixed that damn bus ourselves."

"There are a lot more of us."

"You wanna keep it that way? You should come."

"Carol saved your life. _We_ saved your life-"

" _And I am trying to save yours_."

Mason looked from one to the other, quivering as she readied herself. The tension in the room crackled along her skin like electricity.

"We're not going anywhere without our people," Rick said.

"Your people took off."

"They're coming back."

"To what, picked over bones?"

"Hey! Stop, now!" Glenn stepped between them, shoving them away from each other. He glared at Abraham. "Do you really think that you're gonna be any safer leaving right now? In the middle of the night?"

"Yes."

"What about tomorrow? We need each other for this. We need each other to get to D.C. We can get through all of it together!"

"I have an idea," Tara said, stepping forward hesitantly. "If you stay just one more day and help, I'll go with you to D.C. Okay?"

Abraham stared at her for a moment, deliberating. Finally, he said, "Mason, Maggie and Glenn, too."

Mason startled at the sound of her name.

"No," Rick said.

"Good luck then," Abraham said and turned away.

"You're not taking that bus."

Abraham stopped. Half-turned with an expression that Mason recognized with a twist of her gut.

"Try to stop me."

There was a razor's edge of silence in which Rick stared him down, but Mason was not fooled by his stillness. It was the eye of the storm. As soon as Rick started to move, she and Glenn jumped between them.

" _Rick, stop_ ," she said, placing a hand on his chest. She saw the fire in his eyes and knew he could tear a hole right through her to Abraham if he really wanted to. But she wasn't afraid of that. She was afraid of her next move.

The same fear was on Glenn's face, but when he looked at her she nodded slightly.

Glenn faced Abraham. "You stay and help us," he said, "and we will go with you."

" _No_ ," Rick growled.

"It's not your call," Mason said.

"Half a day," Abraham said. "Come high noon, we're taillights. I'm not waiting for the other damn shoe to drop."

With the dispute settled, Abraham strode away, likely to cool off. Mason sagged, suddenly numb. Rick looked around at all of them in disbelief.

"You don't have to do this," he said.

Mason shook her head. "We're not fighting over this. That's the dumbest thing we could do right now."

"I'm not gonna let him force you to do this."

"Nobody's forcing me. It's my choice. What we really should be focusing on is what to do about our friendly neighborhood cannibals."

Shyly, Eugene stepped forward. "I believe I might have an idea about that."

~m~

Rick led the way out of the church, Michonne, Sasha, Glenn, Abraham and Mason following in a line like ducklings. They moved silently in the direction Gabriel had said the church was in, weapons ready. The woods were dark and gave nothing away. Mason's neck prickled with the sensation of being watched.

They followed the road a ways until they passed the sign for the church, then disappeared into the trees. Once they were submerged in shadow, they stopped to face the road.

Nothing moved for a good while. There was only the night chorus of frogs and crickets to fill the silence. Mason's palms began to sweat but she gripped her poker tightly, still as stone.

When the figures crept out of the trees on the other side of the road, everyone tensed. Six in all, Gareth's confident stride betrayed him in the lead. Mason curled her lip, bloodlust roaring in her veins. But she didn't move. The whole group stayed where they were until Gareth's people disappeared, headed directly toward the prison.

"Okay, keep close. Keep quiet," Rick instructed. And they snuck back the way they came.

When they came to the church, the doors were flung open. Gareth's voice could be heard from inside, saying rather congenially that this was the last chance for the rest of the group to come out of the hiding place. Silent as snow, Rick's group flooded into the building, keeping to the shadows along the wall until each of them was in place.

There were two men lurking near the office door, behind which the rest of the group was hidden. When Rick gave the signal, Abraham shot them both in the head.

The cannibals whipped around, the whites of their eyes bright in the dark room.

"Put your guns on the floor," Rick said.

"Rick, we'll fire right into that office so you lower your gun-"

Mason shot the gun from his hand, effectively cutting both his sentence and his fingers off. She smiled as he toppled to the floor with a jagged cry.

Rick emerged from the darkness, his own handgun aimed and steady.

"Put your guns on the floor and kneel."

"Do what he says," Gareth groaned.

Reluctantly, the rest of the cannibals obeyed and Rick's group fanned out, making sure each was covered. Mason took the man in the hoodie, the one with the black eye who had apparently tried to kill Judith. Remembering this, she was only barely able to keep her fury in check.

Rick and Sasha hovered over Gareth, whose severed hand had become a fountain.

"No point in begging, right?" he said.

"No," Rick replied.

"Still, you could've killed us when you came in, there had to be a reason for that."

"We didn't want to waste the bullets."

Even in the gloom, Mason saw the color drain from Gareth's face.

"We used to help people, we _saved_ people. Things changed. They came in and they…" Gareth broke off with a whimper. "I know that you've been out there, but I can see it. You don't know what it is to be _hungry_."

Mason snorted. Rick cocked his head and smiled.

"You don't have to do this," Gareth continued. "We can walk away, and we will _never_ cross paths again, I promise you."

"But you'll cross someone's path," Rick said. "You'd do this to anyone, right? Besides, I already made you a promise."

Without another word, Rick drew the machete from his belt and drove it through Gareth's head. The others took their cue from him. Mason didn't stop swinging her iron until her cannibal was a bloody mess staining the floorboards.

In the silence of after, thick with the stench of fresh gore, the creaking of the office door sounded like a scream.

The others crept out slowly, blinking at the blood-splattered pews, the guts spilled like snakes along the floor. Eugene paused at the sight of Mason, painted in so much red she was a gruesome rose, but only briefly. She looked up and their eyes met and it didn't matter how much blood she was sporting. He swept her into his arms anyway.

"It could have been us," Rick said. The thought quickened her pulse. It could have so easily.

Gabriel emerged last, his eyes bulging at the sight of his defiled church.

"This is the Lord's house," he said.

"No," said Maggie. "It's just four walls and a roof."

~m~

When Mason stepped outside, Eugene was waiting for her. She'd said her goodbyes to Bob and left Sasha with him. From the looks of him she was afraid he didn't have long.

She sat with her back against the church wall and Eugene sat next to her. Now that she was afforded a bit of peace, she realized how unbelievably tired she was.

"Are you okay?" Eugene asked.

Mason sighed. "I have no idea. Everything's just kinda…fucked in my head."

"My apologies."

"It's not your fault."

"Truthfully, some of it is."

"Oh my god, what is with you and this guilt complex?"

"If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be forced to go to D.C."

"Eugene, you're not the asshole who tried to start a fight over a bus last night."

"But what about…what about Beth?"

Mason closed her eyes, swallowing down the pain like bits of glass.

"Beth is a fighter," she said. "She would've wanted me to try. For Maggie. For Judith. For all of us. If there was a chance she could change the world for me, she would take it. She would want me to take it."

She knew this was true. Beth would've journeyed to the other side of the planet if she thought it would fix things. Saying it still made her feel like she was bleeding on the inside. Giving up the search was almost unendurable.

She didn't know she was crying until Eugene touched her face. He wiped the tears away and then pulled back, like he hadn't meant to do it, like he thought she might bite. Mason just smiled.

"Now would be a really good time for one of your inappropriate jokes."

Eugene's lips twitched. "Knock, knock."

"Who's there?"

"Howie."

"Howie who?"

"Howie going to hide this dead body?"

Mason giggled and bumped her shoulder against his. "Promise me you'll always be my body hider."

Eugene held out his pinky. Mason raised an eyebrow.

"For real?"

"I take my pinky swears very seriously."

With a little snort, Mason linked her pinky with Eugene's.

"Partners in crime."

~m~

Bob died an hour later. When Sasha came out of the office to tell them all, her face was stony with grief. Mason and Rick offered to dig the grave but Sasha insisted that she could get it alone.

The sun snuck across the sky, sitting forlornly at high noon like it felt their sorrow. Slowly they gathered in the churchyard, helping Abraham's group load the bus with supplies. As Rick and Mason set the last box of canned goods inside, he turned to her.

"Are you sure about this?"

Mason wanted to cry. She was tired and she was scared and her heart was full of holes, one for each person she was leaving behind. Blinking away her tears, she replied, "Are we sure about anything anymore?"

Too soon, it was time to go. She had hugged everyone goodbye. She had tried not to think of how they'd only just found each other. She kept herself carefully numb as she and the rest of Abraham's army faced Rick's group.

"Here's our route to D.C.," Abraham said, handing Rick a folded map. "We'll stick to it as long as we're able. If not, well, you've got our destination. Once Eugene gets to the big brains up there, things are gonna bounce back. This group should be there for it."

"They will be," Maggie said.

"We will," Michonne said.

Rick nodded. "We will."

With a smile and a nod, Abraham turned to leave, calling for his group to follow. Mason trailed them onto the bus, her legs full of lead. She took a window seat so she could look at her family one last time.

Eugene sat next to her, and she reached instinctively for his hand. His grip was firm, and it was the only thing keeping her from crumbling completely.

The bus pulled down the road and soon her family was gone. Mason leaned her head on Eugene's shoulder and cried until the tears ran dry.

~m~

" _All my friends are heathens, take it slow,_

 _wait for them to ask you who you know._

 _Please don't make any sudden moves,_

 _you don't know the half of the abuse._ "


	25. Something to Believe In

Okay, first thing's first, thank you all SO MUCH for your reviews, it always makes me so happy reading them! I know it's pretty quick, but I have the next chapter ready. I kept it short because it follows pretty closely S5E4 ("Slabtown", one of my personal favorites). I didn't want it to get too boring but I felt like this part of Beth's story really, really needed to be in the narrative. Also, a note about the chapter title ("Something to Believe In" by Young the Giant): it is absolutely PERFECT for Beth and this episode, if you get the chance you should give a listen. Okay, enough prattling. Until next chapter, hope you enjoy!

25\. Something to Believe In

" _And he says, 'I've got you written_

 _in a black book by the railroad track._

 _You see, I know your fate.'_

 _And I say, 'You've got to listen._

 _I'm a songbird with a brand new track_

 _you underestimate.'_ "

~m~

 _"The very first rule of survival is to use everything you can use."_

 _Mason leaned against the wall next to Beth with an important expression, which Beth smirked at._

 _"So, you're sayin' I should use your uncontrollable attraction to me as a weapon of mass destruction?"_

 _Mason grinned. "You are on a whole other level and I fucking love it."_

~m~

Beth watched the body tumble down the elevator shaft, careening off the walls until it splattered on the bottom floor.

"Use everythin' you can use," she murmured and Dr. Edwards smiled congenially at her, as if he hadn't just unceremoniously dumped a body two hundred feet to the basement.

"Exactly," he said. "That's how we've survived here for so long. Now come along. It's almost time for lunch."

~m~

The halls of Grady Memorial were raw with bleach and fluorescents. It gave Beth headaches. She'd learned to keep her head down, to speak only when spoken to, to hide everything about herself from the people around her.

Still she couldn't help looking curiously at the figure at the end of the hall, mopping studiously.

 _"I was a housekeeper before all this. Mopped floors in the bathrooms, cleaned nicotine off the apartment walls, and let everyone assume who I was."_

The figure looked up at Beth but disappeared without speaking. She continued with her rounds.

~m~

Carrying the tray of food to Dr. Edwards office, Beth paused outside of Dawn's office. The blinds were open, revealing her on her workout bike and a boy folding her laundry, the same figure from before.

"We'll find Joan," Dawn was saying. "Until then, you've got laundry duty and I want my uniform-"

"Washed separately and pressed," the boy mimicked. "I know."

Dawn rolled her eyes. "Smartass."

The boy gave her a sarcastic salute and Beth smiled. It reminded her irresistibly of Mason.

~m~

 _"Never be a smartass in a fight. It will usually come back to bite you."_

 _"But you're a smartass all the time."_

 _"Never do the things I'd be willing to do in a fight, either. Because I'm also a dumbass."_

~m~

The boy- Noah- was ironing scrubs when Beth came to him with her own. They were stained in the blood of that woman, Joan, who she'd had to hold down while her arm was cut off. She closed her eyes at the memory and breathed evenly to keep her pulse normal.

"You okay?" he asked.

She hesitated to respond.

 _"You can't trust everyone you meet. They have to earn it first."_

"I'm Noah," he went on. "The, uh, lollipop guild?"

"Beth," she finally said. "Thanks for that."

"Figured you could use a pick-me-up. After this morning."

"This morning" as in Dawn had been so upset about a patient's diagnosis that she'd slapped Beth hard enough to tear her stitches. Silently, Beth handed Noah her second set of damaged scrubs.

He raised an eyebrow. "Guess I should've brought the whole jar."

"Do you know what happened with Joan?" Beth asked. "If she'da stayed, worked for a while, couldn't she have just left?"

Noah laughed a little, but there was no humor in it. "Uh, I haven't seen it work like that yet."

"How long have you been here?"

"Guess about a year."

It was a knock to the gut. A year and he hadn't gotten out yet? Seeing the look on her face, Noah lifted his right pant leg to expose the ugly scar running from his hip to his ankle.

"My dad and I were both pretty messed up when they found us," he explained. "Said that they could only save one. For a long time I actually believed them. Now I get it. Dad was bigger, stronger. Would've fought back, would've been a threat."

"They left him behind on purpose," Beth said.

"And Dawn just looked the other way. See, she's in charge but just barely, and it's getting worse. That's why I'm outta here when the time is right. I gotta get back to my mom."

A spark of hope flickered in Beth's chest. "Where's home?"

"Richmond, Virginia," he said with a smile. "We had walls, people… See, they _think_ I'm scrawny. They think I'm weak. But they don't know shit about me, about what I am. About what you are."

Beth smiled bright enough to put the stars to shame.

~m~

 _"Because you're small, because you're a girl, there are going to be so many people who underestimate you. That's a good thing. Keep them in the dark. You know who you are anyway."_

~m~

"It's taken a lot to get us here, Beth. And I believe that what we had before all of this isn't over. And when we're finally rescued, when this nightmare ends, we're gonna need to rebuild."

"You don't really think someone's comin' for us?"

"There's still people like us, Beth, people trying to keep the world alive, to fix it. Until then, we all have to contribute. To compromise. If we take, we give back, it's only fair. So keep working off what you owe and you'll be out of here in no time."

~m~

 _"Never assume that someone will be around to save you. You have to save yourself."_

~m~

"Lose something?"

Beth startled, whipping around to see Gorman standing in her doorway, holding up the sucker she'd hidden under her mattress. He tore the wrapper off and stuck it in his mouth, sauntering toward her.

"Mmm. Sour apple. Like the kind Dawn acquired from pediatrics. Suppose you could have a taste. See if it rings any bells."

"I don't want it," Beth said, but Gorman pressed it to her mouth.

"Oh, c'mon, now. I just wanna be sure I'm returning this to its rightful owner."

Beth's heart drummed against her ribcage. Her stomach churned. After a moment, Gorman slipped the sucker into her mouth and she nearly gagged. She knew she'd never taste green apple the same away again.

"Yeah," he purred. "That's right."

"Leave her alone."

Dr. Edwards strode in then, and Gorman pulled the sucker away. Beth turned her head to the side and spit until her mouth was dry.

~m~

 _"Sometimes a power play is necessary, but sometimes it's dangerous. Sometimes you need to fight quietly. Hide how strong you really are."_

~m~

Dr. Edwards led her up to the roof, explaining about the man in charge before Dawn, about how he'd lost it and Dawn had had to kill him. The story was horrific, but as Beth approached the edge of the roof, hundreds of feet from the ground, she couldn't stop thinking about how Mason would've loved the view. Would've gone through her entire playlist in search of the perfect song to capture it.

Briefly, she allowed herself a moment to look up at the sky and smile. Mason was out there, under the same sun.

"Dawn took charge and saw us through everything," Dr. Edwards said. "Kept us together. Kept us alive."

Beth peered at him. "You call this livin'?"

"I'm still breathing," he answered. "The patients we brought here, they're still breathing. Outside these walls, alone, unprotected, they'd be dead. _We'd_ be dead. People like you and me…we're not the ones who make it."

She had an uncontrollable urge to scream at him that he was wrong, that'd she'd _lived_ out there, _really_ lived. She'd had a family and she'd had music and she'd been in love. But she didn't. She kept her mouth shut, because that was the game.

 _They'll think you're weak._

"As bad as it gets," he continued, "it's still better than down there."

 _Let them._

~m~

Dawn cornered Beth in her room.

She was still shaken from Mr. Trevitt's death, the way his body had seized after giving him a dose of the wrong medicine. Still shaken about Noah taking the blame for it, how Dawn's officers had beat him mercilessly.

When Dawn walked in, it was all she could do not to rip into her.

"You really think I didn't know? Noah's smart, probably my best worker. But that story about the ventilator? Boy's not much of a liar."

Beth seethed. "If you knew, then why did you-"

"I didn't want to, I had to! A good man's mistakes almost ended everything for us and I'll be damned if I'm gonna let that happen again. Beth, every sacrifice we make needs to be for the greater good. The second it isn't, the second we lose sight of that, it's all over."

Dawn paused. Beth bristled at the pity in her eyes.

"The thing is, you're not the greater good. You're not strong enough."

Beth raised her chin defiantly. "I _am_ strong."

"How many people had to risk their lives to save you? In here, you are part of a system. The wars keep my officers happy. The happier my officers are, the harder they work to keep us going."

Beth was too horrified to speak. Her knees shook, but she pretended Mason was right beside her, holding her hand. Keeping her standing.

"In here, you serve a purpose," Dawn continued. "But out there? You are _nothing_."

"That's bullshit."

"Oh, yeah?" Dawn grabbed Beth's arm and held it out, exposing the scar on her wrist. "I saw this the night you came in. Is that bullshit, too?"

For a moment, Beth could still feel it. Still feel the unnatural cold of the glass severing her skin, the sudden burn as her blood began to leak out.

She saw Mason pulling her shirt up to reveal her own scars and telling her that it didn't mean she was weak. That she was just fighting battles.

After a moment, Dawn released her. "Some people just aren't meant for this life, and that's okay," she said. "As long as they don't take advantage of the ones who are."

~m~

 _"This world breeds a special kind of wicked. There will always be monsters, like the Governor. And they do not deserve to live. They cannot be allowed to."_

 _"Why are you tellin' me this?"_

 _"Because…one day you might run into someone like that. And I don't want them to trick you into mercy. Someday, to stay safe, you might have to kill someone."_

~m~

"It's not as bad as it looks, really," Noah insisted, but Beth still reached tentatively toward the bruises on his face. "I'm okay."

Beth shook her head, grateful and frustrated all at once. He shouldn't have taken the hit for her. It was the kind of stupid stunt Mason would have pulled.

"Look, Dawn needed Trevitt for something, I know that's what that was about," he continued. "Screwed-up thing is, she's trapped, too."

"But we're not. I'm going with you."

Noah blinked at the ferocity in her eyes, but after a moment's hesitation he nodded.

"Basement's the fastest way out. But any noise and we got rotters."

"So we won't make noise."

"Dawn keeps a spare key to the elevator banks somewhere in her office. If I keep an eye on Dawn, do you think you can find it?"

Fire blazed in her veins. Beth smiled.

"Yes."

~m~

Dawn's office was as orderly as Beth imagined it would be.

At least, aside from the corpse splayed on the floor.

It was Joan, beaten and bloodied. She'd used a pair of scissors to carve FUCK YOU into the tile. Swallowing her fear, her guilt, Beth took the scissors and tucked them into her pocket.

It didn't take long to find the key, stashed in one of the filing cabinets. She put it in the pocket with the scissors, seconds before the door opened and Gorman walked in.

They stared at each other for a moment and then he smiled triumphantly, closing the door.

Beth's pulse thrummed electrically, but through her panic she felt Mason's phantom presence behind her, urging her to stay calm.

 _Breathe. Play the game._

"I hope I'm not interrupting," Gorman said.

"Dawn was just askin' for her key."

"Was she now?"

Gorman stepped between her and the door, forcing her back.

"See, I was just with Dawn. And I don't seem to remember that," he said. "It's okay. Maybe she doesn't have to know. Maybe there's another solution."

He advanced until Beth was sitting on the edge of Dawn's desk. His lips skimmed across her neck as she leaned away. Behind her, there was a picture of Dawn and the former leader, Hanson, a stack of papers, and the jar of suckers. On the floor, Joan's fingers twitched with reanimation.

"So how about it, Bethy? We gonna work something out here?"

Nausea churned her stomach at the use of her nickname, the name her father used to call her, but she managed a nod.

"Good girl."

His hands coasted up her shirt. She braced herself against the desk, feigning seduction. Her fingers ghosted along the edge of the glass jar.

"Now Joan, she's not such a team player," Gorman rumbled.

The jar was in her hand.

Joan's eyes were open.

 _Use everything you can use._

"Lucky for me, you're not a fighter."

Before his mouth could find hers, she slammed the jar against his head, spraying shattered glass and chips of candy everywhere. He stumbled to the floor, right into Joan's waiting jaws. She ripped his throat out and his gurgling cries faded to nothing.

She took his gun and disappeared.

~m~

Escape was a blur.

Noah lowering her down the elevator shaft. The stinking dark of the basement. The blinding light of the sun.

They slipped through the gap in the first fence, but the path to the second was filled with walkers.

Beth paused, heart in her throat. She hadn't seen so many since-

 _Mason leading the walkers away with torches._

 _"Don't do the things I'd be willing to do in a fight."_

 _Daryl telling her to grab her shit and run._

 _"We gotta go, Beth. We gotta go."_

Fear pinned her in place. There were too many. They wouldn't be able to break through, not with Noah's leg, not with only one gun.

 _Mason would._

She would. And she had taught Beth everything she knew.

Beth raised the gun and fired, cutting a hole in the walkers' ranks for Noah to run through.

She almost made it, too. A few yards from the gate, one of Dawn's officers took her down and cuffed her. Noah stared, stricken, through the fence.

But Beth smiled.

~m~

Now she mopped the floors. Did the laundry. Kept Dawn's office as spotless as she demanded.

She did so quietly. She kept her head down. Pretended she'd been defeated. Pretended she was trapped.

But there was a fire in her. It was hungrier than ever.

~m~

 _Mason flicked her wrist and the knife was suddenly in her hand. She grinned at Beth._

 _"If you keep it tucked right inside your sleeve, it's easy peasy. Also, you can tuck weapons in your shoes or tape them inside your clothes, just so long as you can reach it when you need to."_

 _Beth nodded, ever the attentive student. Her eyes gleamed with this new knowledge._

 _"After all this trainin'," she said, "I'll be like a weapon with a weapon."_

 _Mason laughed. "Hells yes, my beautiful Viking queen. Hells yes."_

~m~

" _I'll give you something to believe in,_

 _burn up a basement full of demons._

 _Realize you're a slave to your mind, break free._

 _Now give me something to believe in._ "


	26. Pools

Hello, lovelies! I'm back and really excited to share another chapter with you! A bit of a warning beforehand: there is a bit of drug use in it, but definitely nothing sinister. It's a pretty fluffy chapter for the most part, and one of my favorites so far. The chapter title is "Pools" by Glass Animals, a super great song (but then all of their songs are great). Anyway, until the next chapter, many, many thanks for your reviews and support. Let me know what you think!

26\. Pools

" _We float before the sea at dusk,_

 _in heavy mist, in glitter dust,_

 _I smile before I want to,_

 _I smile because you want to._ "

~m~

Several hours passed before Mason felt close to normal again. Everyone was quiet, subdued after leaving the church, but she felt better sitting next to Eugene. She was certain she would have lost it without the comfort of his presence.

Rosita, sitting one seat behind Abraham's, played idly with his ginger hair. "It's getting a little messy for you," she said, the first words anyone had spoken in a while.

"Getting ready for retirement," he replied. "Relaxing the grooming standards. Thinking about becoming a plumber. A sheepherder or something."

Mason snorted a little. Eugene looked over and smiled like she'd done something more fantastic than that.

"You ain't herding sheep now, Abraham, eyes on the prize," Rosita said.

"Damn right. That's my girl." He chuckled. "Maybe I'll let you shave me down all over. Dolphin-smooth."

"Oh, that's a sexy image," Mason said.

Rosita laughed. "I'll cut it for you tonight."

Tara grinned at Eugene. "Hey, maybe Rosita can give you a trim while she's at it. Party's getting a little long in the back."

Both Mason and Eugene looked at her as though she'd suggested murdering kittens.

"Nobody's touching his glorious locks," Mason said.

"Thank you, partner in crime."

"What, is it your source of power or something?" Tara teased.

"I ain't slayin' a lion anytime soon," Eugene said. "I wouldn't be placing any wagers on seeing me dispatch a thousand Philistines with the jawbone of an ass."

"You'll just settle for saving the world, right?"

"Yeah."

Mason blinked at the change in his tone, and she wasn't the only one who noticed. The smile disappeared from Tara's face.

"What's up?" she asked. "Last night?"

"Yes. That and tomorrow. And I'm thinking about that preacher. What he did."

Discreetly, Mason touched her pinky finger to Eugene's. One side of his mouth twitched up in wordless gratitude.

Maggie turned in her seat to face them. "How long will it be?" she asked. "After you get on that terminal and do what you have to do?"

"Depends on a number of factors including density of the infected around target sites worldwide."

"Wait, target sites?" Glenn said. "Are you talking about missiles?"

Eugene's expression didn't change, but Mason sensed his unease.

"That's classified," he said.

"C'mon, man. I thought we were over that."

"What if we all live?"

"The secrets will matter then?"

"They might. Anyway, the speed with which things normalize also depends on factors such as worldwide weather patterns, which were modeled without the assumption that cars, planes, boats and trains wouldn't be pouring hydrocarbons into the atmosphere this long. Changes the game quite a bit when it comes to air-transmissible pathogens."

Glenn stared at him for a moment with the same mystified expression most wore when they talked to Eugene. Then he said, "Why the hair?"

"Because I like it. And no one is takin' scissor no clipper to it, you hear me, Miss Espinoza?"

"Loud and clear."

"Ya'll can laugh all you want," Eugene continued. "The smartest man I ever met happened to love my hair. My old boss, T. Brooks Ellis, the director of the Human Genome Project. He said my hair made me look like, and I quote, 'a fun guy'. Which I am."

Mason cackled and Eugene turned to glare at her, but it was marred by the smile he fought to suppress.

"I don't know what you're laughing about. I'll have you know that I was once referred to as a party animal by my peers. It may not look like it upon first glance, but I assure you I can merrymake with the best of them."

"You're telling me you used to go to keggers and shit? Drink beer from funnels and wake up in some stranger's bathtub?"

"Stop spying on me."

A deafening bang interrupted them. The bus jolted and began to careen wildly, brakes screeching. There was barely any time to react, but Mason managed to wrap herself protectively over Eugene before the bus ramped into an SUV and flipped over.

Her head slammed against the window and she blacked out.

~m~

 _Mason…_

Beth?

 _I love you. Wake up…_

I love you, too.

 _Mason…_

"Mason!"

Her eyes flickered open to a haze of smoke. Eugene crouched over her, his panic turning to relief as his voice finally roused her.

"Eugene…" she croaked. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, but you hit your head pretty hard."

It was only then that she became aware of an insistent throbbing in her left temple. Dazed, she lifted her hand to her head. Her fingers came away glossed with blood.

"Are the others okay?"

"Scrapes and bruises. But we really need to get out of here," he said, nodding to the sinister glow coming from the front of the bus.

He helped her to her feet, steadying her while she got her bearings; the bus lay on its side, and combined with her aching brain it made for quite a dizzying experience. The others hovered at the back of the bus, staring at the walkers gathering at the doors.

"Alright," Glenn said, raising his voice above the snarling. "Abraham and I will go first, knock them back, clear the way for the rest of you to get out, and then we all fight them off together. Okay?"

Everyone nodded. Mason dug her fire poker from the debris and slipped her pack over Eugene's shoulder.

"You and me'll go last. I'll cover you, but you need to be ready, just in case."

Shakily, he nodded. Then, with a deep breath, he drew the knife she'd given him from his belt.

Abraham kicked the doors opened and knocked through the wall of walkers. The others hopped out one by one until just Mason and Eugene remained.

"You ready?" she said.

At first he didn't respond, staring at the melee outside. Mason touched his hand.

"Hey. It's okay. You can do this."

"Okay."

She led him out of the bus, and as soon as the stench of walkers hit her nose she reverted immediately to fight mode. She took down two of them easily enough, but as she moved toward the third her head spun. She stumbled, and her fire poker ran through the walker's neck instead of its head.

" _Shit_."

It slid toward her, spouting blood from its gnashing teeth. She tried to pull away, but its slimy fingers shackled her wrist. Its free hand swiped at her face, its fetid breath choked her.

Eugene appeared out of nowhere, driving his knife through the walker's temple. It slumped heavily, nearly carrying her off her feet, but Eugene caught her before she could fall.

"Thanks," she panted.

"Look at me," he said, unexpectedly assertive. Surprised, she obeyed and he reached out to hold her head in his hands. His grip was firm but gentle, and she was suddenly overcome with a sudden urge to squirm.

"What, um, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Checking to see if you have a concussion. Are you nauseous? Ears ringing?"

"Not really. My head hurts but, like, it's bleeding, so…"

Briefly, Eugene examined her eyes and for some reason, with him so close, the look warmed her cheeks. His eyes were blue, she realized. Why had she not noticed that before?

"Your pupils are dilated. I am ninety-eight percent certain you have a concussion."

"Well, that sucks."

"Eugene!"

Eugene and Mason jumped apart, startled by Abraham's shout.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. Just cuts and dings is all. But Mason has a head wound and a possible concussion."

"First aid kit's in the bus," Maggie said. "I'll see what we have."

As though her words were a signal, the orange smolder at the front of the bus burst into full-fledged flames. Mason let out a breathy laugh.

"Here."

Eugene tore a strip from the bottom of his shirt and began wrapping it around her head.

"We'll just have to keep an eye on it, both for infection and worsening concussive symptoms," he murmured as he worked. Mason nodded mutely.

Once her wound was patched, Abraham hefted his gun over his shoulder and said, "We're not staying here any longer. We're rolling on. Find another vehicle down the road. The mission hasn't changed."

"Devil's advocate, Abraham, but we smashed to a stop hard. Mason's hurt, you're hurt. The church is just a few miles back."

"No," Abraham growled. "We don't stop. We don't go back. We're at _war_ , and retreat means we lose. The road fights back, the plan gets jacked, you all know that. Now we will get through this because we have to, but we do not go back."

"Hey, hey," Glenn said. "You okay?"

"I am fit as a damn fiddle."

Glenn frowned cautiously at Abraham's combative tone. "We are going with you. You are calling this thing. I just need to know you're good."

"This is how things stop," Abraham explained. "I can't afford that right now, the world can't afford it. Listen, I took a pretty hard shot to the sack with that crash. I am stressed and depressed to see that ride die, but if you say we're rolling on, I'm good."

"We're rolling on."

So they gathered what little had survived the crash, bolstering each other's spirits by promising that they would replenish supplies on the way. Abraham took the lead, keeping to the side of the road. After a while, Mason nudged him.

"Sorry about your sack, man."

Like she'd hoped, Abraham laughed. "Sorry about your head."

"Eh, it was fucked anyway."

~m~

They came across a small town as night fell and decided on a small library as their camp. They spent a few hours rearranging the shelves into "rooms", covering the windows with cardboard, stuffing trashcans with kindling for fires, and salvaging water from the toilet tanks.

Maggie and Rosita took the string out of book bindings to use as makeshift stitches. Maggie stitched Mason up while Rosita tended to a cut on Abraham's hand.

"Thanks, sis," she said when the last stitch was tied off.

Maggie smiled and touched Mason's cheek, and the resemblance to Beth made her want to cry.

"Go get some rest."

Eugene waited for her in one of the makeshift rooms. It was the furthest from the others, small and cozy with a series of shelf benches sitting below a row of windows. Mason nodded in approval.

"Cute."

"Home sweet home," Eugene agreed.

"You and I should make a quick sweep. See if there's anything useful we want to grab. Meet you back here in ten?"

"Coolioz."

Mason started out with every intention of searching for essentials, but in no time at all she was distracted by the books. It had been so long since she'd read anything aside from the classics Hershel had kept at the prison. Unable to help herself, she began perusing them.

The bag fell as she was pushing a few thrillers out of the way. Curious, she picked it up, and when she saw what was inside an enormous grin split her face. She hurried back to her and Eugene's den.

He was sitting on one of the benches, staring pensively at the floor. Sitting next to him, a pile of his own books. _Nerd._

"Okay, so I found something really fucking great, are you ready?"

"Wait," Eugene said. "Me first."

Mason blinked curiously as he reached behind him and held something out to her. She felt an unexpected wave of emotion when she saw that they were headphones.

"Yours broke in the crash, right?" he said.

"Right," she rasped. "Thank you."

 _Don't cry you pansy, what the fuck?_

Shaking her head roughly, she took the headphones and slipped them around her neck. "Thank you," she repeated.

"Of course. What is it that you found? You came in smiling wider than the moon."

She set her books down next to his and pulled the baggie from her pocket. She dangled it in front of him with a grin.

" _Marijuana_?"

"Hell yeah. Somebody stashed it in the mystery section."

"Are you…are you going to smoke it?"

"Well, I'm not gonna cook it in a soup and call it oregano."

"Mason, I do not know if that's-"

"What? I thought you were a party animal," she teased.

Eugene glared at her. "I have nothing against marijuana, but with your probable concussion you should probably stay awake for a few hours to be safe. That stuff will put you out like a light, if the smell is anything to go by."

"So you _have_ smoked."

"A few times."

"So not enough to know that this isn't indica it's sativa and will likely make me feel more energized?"

He blinked. "How can you tell?"

"I was a middleman for a while. Just casual shit, you know. See how the buds are kind of feathery? Indica is a lot bushier."

"Are you sure?"

" _Yes_ , oh my god. Besides, isn't that whole don't-sleep-after-concussions thing a myth?"

"With mild cases. But we have no way of knowing the severity of yours and I will not risk your health for a little ganja."

Mason rolled her eyes. "Eugene, it'll probably help. Now I'm gonna roll one. Do you want some?"

He was silent for a long moment. Then he sighed. "Yes. But if it makes you sleepy, we quit immediately."

"Yes, Mom."

In record time, Mason rolled a joint with the cigarette paper in the baggie, leaned over their trashcan fire to light it, and took a deep hit. She held it in her throat for a moment before the burn got to her and she coughed it out.

" _Jesus,_ " she choked. "It's been a while."

Silently, Eugene held his hand out for the joint. He coughed almost immediately, and Mason patted his back with a giggle.

"Been a while for you, too, huh?"

"Fuck, I have missed that."

~m~

"Dude, you know what I could go for right now?"

"Frankenberries."

" _Get the fuck out of my mind_."

~m~

"I can blow smoke rings, watch!"

"I can blow…bubbles."

~m~

"Oh my god, man. I feel like I could…like I could, like. Ascend into Olympus and challenge Zeus to a gun fight. Or, no, like…a lightning fight? He was the lightning guy, right? _Shut up, Eugene, stop laughing_."

"You're…you're fucking stoned…"

" _I'm_ stoned? Eugene, you're, like, legit giggling. Oh my god, it's so cute."

~m~

"You know, in high school I played football for, like, a year."

"Really?"

"Yeah, until the coach forced me off the team. Apparently the other players were uncomfortable with a dyke on the team."

"Ah, so you were dating a girl that year."

"Yep."

"That's bullshit. My dad forced me into pee wee football, but I got kicked off for a similar unfounded prejudice."

"They thought you were a dyke?"

"Yes."

~m~

"Hey, as a kid, did you ever eat those…like those candy necklaces? Remember those?"

"Indeed, I do, sister."

"So did you ever eat 'em? Cuz I love those things."

"Sometimes. But sometimes I wasn't in the mood for candy so I'd just eat a necklace."

"You're such a weirdo. I love it."

~m~

"You know what? My middle name is Elliot."

"So?"

"So my full name is Eugene Elliot Porter. My initials spell out EEP… Stop laughing, Mason."

~m~

"I bet I can pin you in five seconds."

"Mason, I'm twice your size."

"So what? Square up, bro."

"Alright, but- _ow_ , Jesus!"

"Ha! I told you!"

"Oh, yeah?"

"Hey! Eugene, quit it, that's- _tickling is cheating_!"

"You didn't rule it out."

"F- _fuck_ you, you- _shit, no, no, please_!"

"Oh, the ribs, huh?"

" _I hate you_!"

"Do you forfeit?"

"Urrrg- _Y-yes, okay! Goddammit_!"

"Huh. Look at that. Five seconds."

"Go chew on a necklace."

~m~

"Dude, _look_ at the fucking sky. I want to go out there. I want to go stargazing."

Mason crouched on a bench, staring eagerly out the window. Eugene sat next to her and took a contemplative hit from their second joint.

"I used to go stargazing all the time. I'd drive out to empty fields with my telescope and spend hours out there."

"Well, I'm going."

"Wait. Right now?"

"Yeah. I won't be gone long. You stay here and make sure the others don't notice I'm gone."

Eugene grabbed her arm. "I cannot in good conscience let you go out there by yourself."

"Eugene, I used to be out there all the time by myself."

"While you were stoned to the bone?"

Mason laughed. "No, but I spent a good amount of time drunk. C'mon, I'll be fine. Just a five minute adventure, I promise."

"No," he said firmly. "I…I'm coming with you."

"Eugene, no-"

"I'm serious," he said and then held out his pinky finger, which was so very _un_ serious that both of them almost cracked up.

Mason watched him for a moment, warring with her common sense. Going out right now just the two of them was so incredibly stupid it didn't even need stating. But there was something reckless in her that _needed_ to be out there, under the wild night, and she could see it in Eugene's eyes, too. She didn't think she'd ever seen him reckless.

"Okay," she finally said. "But we're doing this thing the smart way. The idiotic smart way."

A few minutes later, they were sneaking out of the exit in the back of the library, armed with all the disposable paraphernalia they could carry. The walkers meandering on the other side of the street hadn't seen them yet, so they were able to scurry past without incident.

Just as they were approaching the highway, however, a band of walkers appeared from around the corner of the building. Mason backed up quickly, shoving Eugene and herself behind a car. The walkers didn't notice them but were headed right in their direction.

With a conspiratorial nod, Mason and Eugene tossed a couple of their random items down an alleyway. The walkers stopped, alerted to the noise, and changed direction. Once the path was clear, they hurried away.

The highway was clear and quiet. They walked a little while before sprawling out on the pavement. The stars spilled out above them like a million fireflies.

"I never get used to how many we can see without light pollution," Eugene murmured.

"It's this," Mason said. "The good out of the bad. The game Bob used to play with Sasha."

Tears welled in her eyes but she blinked them away. Eugene took her hand and began reciting all of the constellations he knew to distract her from the pain. After a while, they began making up their own. It was the most peaceful she'd felt in a long time.

When the walkers came, Mason pulled Eugene to his feet and darted into the woods, tossing items as they went. They lost the ones following them but nearly ran into a second group wandering through the trees. With a stifled squeal, Mason backtracked, pulling Eugene behind her until they came to a hollow tree. She pushed him inside first, then squeezed in after.

There was barely enough room for both of them, and none at all for space between them. The roof was low enough that Eugene had to duck. They stood absolutely still, mashed together as the walkers shambled past.

Mason watched them for a bit, breathless with exhilaration, when she spotted one with an odd marking. At first she thought it was a tattoo, albeit a stupidly placed one, but as it came closer she saw that it had been carved into the walker's forehead. The bleeding W glistened, sending a trickle of unease down her spine.

She turned to point it out to Eugene, but was startled by how close they really were. His nose was a brush away from hers, his breath warm on her face. She blinked, so flustered by the proximity that she let out a nervous giggle.

A walker nearby paused at the noise, but after a tense moment it moved on. Mason pressed her forehead briefly to Eugene's chest, sagging with relief.

"C'mon," she whispered. "Before our luck runs out."

~m~

"Man, can you imagine the look on Abraham's face if he ever found out?"

"I really, truly, sincerely do not want to."

Eugene was sitting with his back against the benches and Mason was lying on the floor with her head propped up on his leg. Her iPod played through her new headphones, low and comforting.

"Yeah, okay, but did you see that fire truck outside?" she said. "That would be a _perfect_ replacement for our late truck."

Eugene sighed. "Yes. I suppose we'll have to inform Abraham about it tomorrow."

Mason raised an eyebrow. "You don't sound enthused."

"Well because, in all honesty, I would much rather our nights continue in _this_ manner."

"Yeah, but after you fix things, they can."

"Yeah."

There was so much desolation in his voice that it stung her. She didn't know what to say or how to make it better.

After a while, the song changed and before she could convince herself not to she started to sing.

Eugene looked sharply at her but she ignored him. She knew if she saw him watching her, the nerves would stifle her voice.

" _Shake my little soul for you now, toy,_

 _and I settle up into a world of noise._

 _I'm a man of many tricks and tools and joy_

 _with a battery of guilt on which to poise._ "

Only when the song was over did she dare look at him. His eyes were wide, a soft smile on his face.

"I didn't know you sang."

"Uh, yep. Not usually for other people though."

"I'm honored."

Mason laughed to cover her shyness. "Well, you're my bestie, so…"

"Will you sing it again?"

"Really?"

"It's been a while since I heard someone sing, leastways not someone who does it so well."

So she sang it again, and again, until Eugene knew enough to join in on the chorus. He was wildly out of tune but Mason loved the sound of his voice anyway.

Eventually, they both agreed that they should probably get some sleep.

"So you don't think I'll slip into a coma?" Mason teased.

"At this point I think you are right as rain."

"Thanks, Dr. Porter."

~m~

They awoke the next morning tired but at ease. Exchanging a smirk, they slipped the rest of the weed into Mason's pack before joining the others.

The rest of the group looked well-rested, but Mason couldn't find it in herself to envy them. From the look on his face, Eugene felt the same.

Apparently Abraham and Rosita had been arguing about whether or not to stay at the library for one more night. Mason didn't have to ask to know what Abraham thought of that.

"This town isn't in bad shape," Maggie said. "This store wasn't even touched. We could make a good base here, spend one last day doing a sweep for supplies."

Rosita sighed. "No. We'll sweep as we go. We've done it since Houston, we're not stopping now." It was clear she was only saying this because she knew Abraham wouldn't budge.

After a moment, he nodded. "You heard the lady. We're taking it north."

"We tapped out the toilet," Tara said. "Broad River is five miles west. At the very least we stock up there before we find wheels."

"We won't have to," Mason interjected.

"You secretly a camel or something?"

"No. But there is a perfectly good vehicle outside that just happens to have five hundred gallons of water on it," she said, glancing conspiratorially at Eugene.

Abraham praised her jovially for the find, clapping her on the back hard enough to make her stumble. Everyone gathered their stuff and headed outside to examine it.

When Abraham tried to start it, however, the engine sputtered and refused to turn over.

"Come on," he growled, hopping out to glare at the truck. "Just one damn time."

Glenn sighed. "We'll find another ride."

"If there was a ride worth shit in this town we would've seen it. This thing's done some crowd-clearing. Right up into the intake."

That was an understatement. The whole thing was covered in a layer of red much less appealing than its usual hue.

"There is no damn corner on this damn Earth that hasn't been dicked hard beyond all damn recognition," he continued and began tearing walker flesh from the mesh duct on the side.

"Uh, Abraham," Rosita said. "That feeds the radiator. The intake for the engine is actually on the roof."

Mason raised an eyebrow, impressed, but before anyone could respond, a tire rolled out of the warehouse next to them.

"Shit."

The walkers came flooding through the open door, at least a dozen or more. Abraham and Mason leapt forward first, taking out the first wave with synchronized violence. They probably could've taken most of them themselves, until Glenn shouted that there were more coming from the back.

"Just one damn _time_!" Abraham fumed, cleaving a walker's head in half with the butt of his gun.

Mason found herself surrounded in the flood, swinging desperately to break free. But the walkers kept coming.

Suddenly, with a deafening hiss, a stream of water cut through the pack on her left.

"Mason, go!"

Bewildered, she stumbled away to see Eugene manning the water hose on top of the truck.

She laughed. "Fuck yeah, Eugene!"

When the walkers were subdued, many of them missing limbs and heads, everyone cheered.

"I've been to eight county fairs and one goat rodeo," Abraham said. "I never seen anything like that."

With a cocky smirk, Eugene descended and Abraham took his place to clear the engine intake.

Mason ruffled Eugene's hair. "Fabulous thinking, partner!"

"Hey, don't muss the mane."

The truck started on the first try once the intake was clear, and in no time they were on the road again.

~m~

Sometime around noon, the truck stalled. Everyone hovered around it while Abraham attempted to fix it.

Mason and Eugene sat next to each other, each reading one of the books they'd taken from the library. When the breeze picked up they both looked up at the same time, faces scrunched in disgust.

"What the fuck is _that_?"

"I am no expert, but it smells like if Cthulhu could shit."

Abraham emerged from the truck. "Whatever's making that stench, it ain't nothing nice. But we're not stopping."

"Um…we're stopped," Tara said.

But he ignored her, and she and Mason exchanged an exasperated glance.

The group followed Abraham up the road, in the direction of the hideous stink, until he stopped abruptly. When Mason saw why, her heart dropped into her stomach.

Ahead of them on either side of the road were acres of farmland. But there were no crops and no livestock.

Hundreds of walkers had taken the land.

"Shit."


	27. Thinking Out Loud

Hello, lovelies! So, first thing's first: after this chapter, there will only be two left (*internal screaming*). BUT there will be a sequel, which I've been super excited to write (and I hope ya'll will be excited to read?) Anyway, so today's chapter title is "Thinking Out Loud" by The Kickdrums and it's really beautiful, I love it. Also, I reference "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron, which is also a beautiful song. Thank you all again for your reviews and support, and until the next chapter, let me know what you think!

27\. Thinking Out Loud

" _Hey, God, hello, how you been?_

 _The same old drama?_

 _I know you're probably not even real._

 _I guess it doesn't matter._ "

~m~

Glenn was the first to move, shaking his head as he backed away from the army of walkers.

"Let's go," he murmured.

Mason stood rooted to the spot, watching a vein in Abraham's neck pulse. He was facing away from her, so she couldn't see his face, but she could imagine the storm clouds clearly. He was muttering something to himself, so low she could barely catch it.

"I will not lie down."

Mason and Eugene exchanged an uneasy glance. There was something about his stance, the tension in his shoulders, that put a pit in her stomach.

"Abraham," Rosita called. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

Slowly, he turned around. His eyes were distant and hot, burning like coals.

"Hold up," he said.

"We gotta go," Maggie said.

"No. No, we don't. They can't hear us and they can't see us. Not from here."

"Yeah, this is the definition of fine," Tara said.

"We need the map. There's gotta be a detour," Glenn said.

"I'm not doing it."

Abraham began to pace then. His caged lion energy made Mason's neck prickle.

"We detoured and detoured and detoured from Houston to Georgia. I'm not playing that game anymore."

Glenn's eyes were wide in amazement. "We are not going through this!"

"We don't go back," Abraham growled. "We can't go back."

"I'm not talking about going back. Just south a few miles."

"No."

"Abraham-"

" _We can get through_! _And that means we are not going south, going around, or going back_!"

He had his army voice raised to full volume. The others were starting to look nervous, though the walkers couldn't possibly hear him from so far away.

"No," Rosita said. "Glenn's right."

Abraham stared at her for a long time, betrayal and fury reddening his cheeks, until finally he hung his head. Mason began to hope that maybe they were getting through to him, and that hope leapt as he started walking away from the dead ones.

Until he grabbed Eugene by the arm so roughly that he stumbled and began dragging him back toward the fire truck.

"Hey! _Hey_! _Let him go_!" Mason shouted, running after them.

The others added their voices, rushing to stop him. Mason, Glenn and Tara clustered around them, trying to free Eugene, but Abraham fought back. In the scuffle, he shoved Mason hard enough that she skidded across the pavement.

" _Hey_!" Glenn shouted, and Tara and Rosita began cursing him out, but all Mason was aware of was the terrified look in Eugene's eyes.

Quickly she leapt to her feet and rejoined the fray, more furious than ever. Everyone was shouting and fighting, but Mason heard Eugene's voice through it all.

" _I am not a scientist_! _I am not a scientist_!"

She stopped dead in her tracks.

A few more shouts and the others heard him as well, all of them falling silent at the same time. Abraham was so shocked Eugene was able to pull away.

"I lied," he said, trembling from head to toe. "I'm not a scientist. I don't know how to stop it. I…I'm not a scientist."

Nobody spoke for a long time. The silence was broken only by the chirrup of bugs, which in the wake of Eugene's revelation sounded cruelly like laughter.

"But…you _are_ a scientist, I've seen the things that you can do," Rosita finally said.

"I just know things," Eugene replied.

Glenn blinked. "You just… _know things_?"

"I know I'm smarter than most people. I know I'm a very good liar and I know I needed to get to D.C."

Mason's knees trembled but she barely felt them. Something was building in her chest, making it hard to breathe.

"Why?" Maggie asked.

"Because I do believe that locale holds the strongest possibility for survival. And I wanted to survive. If I could cheat some people into taking me there, well, I just reasoned I'd be doin' them a solid, too."

The thing building in her chest…it was slowly breaking through her disbelief, her shock. It felt like fire. It sank its teeth in her lungs.

Rosita's eyes welled with tears. "People died trying to get you here."

"I'm aware of that. Stephanie, Warren, Pam, Rex, Roger, Josiah, Dirk and Josephine. And…and Bob."

Mason flinched.

 _Eight people died to get me where I am right now. Their hearts stopped pumping blood so mine could and that's… It's like…_

 _They're haunting you._

It was rage, that thing inside her. It was betrayal. He had _lied_ to her, lied to _all_ of them.

She looked at him then, fully prepared to let this rage consume her, and at that moment his eyes flickered up to meet hers.

Just like they had the first day they'd met. Just like they had so many times after.

The fear in them was overwhelming, but it had nothing on the guilt. She saw it clear as day. Everything he had done, every lie he'd told, was etched into the way he held himself. Suddenly it all made sense, his constant apologies. She'd seen firsthand how it ate at him.

When they'd found each other, he'd been just as hollow as her.

And when he looked at her then, she read the _I'm sorry_ in his eyes and it deflated her.

His hands were shaking. His eyes were bright blue with tears.

This was her friend. Her best friend. She didn't think that had changed, whatever else had.

In the same moment, she noticed the way Abraham was looking at him. The violence building behind his expression. Alarm bells went off in her head, pushing the fury to a back burner.

Her hand came to rest on her gun.

"You see, I lost my nerve as we grew closer, for I am a coward," Eugene said. "And the reality of getting to our destination and disclosing the truth of the matter became some truly frightening shit. I took it upon myself to slow our roll. Find time to finesse things so then when we got there… But at this moment I fully realize there are no longer any agreeable options. I was screwed either way."

He stood there for a moment, eyes flickering from face to face, before he looked at Abraham.

"Again," he said, "I am smarter than you. Now you may want to leave me here, but-"

Abraham dropped his gun and punched Eugene twice in the face, so hard he careened backward and slammed into the truck.

Mason lost it then.

The fury returned, so powerful she was no longer in control of her body, so overwhelming it felt like going mad. With a feral snarl, she lunged, putting her body between Abraham and Eugene.

" _STAY AWAY FROM HIM_."

She punched Abraham, once in the face and once in the throat, hard enough that it reverberated up the bone and into her shoulder.

He lurched away but recovered quickly, looming over her with a frightening roar.

She didn't flinch. She had no intention of moving. She drew her gun and aimed it at his forehead.

"Get out of my way," he seethed.

But her eyes were unblinking steel. Her voice was the coldest flame.

"Touch him again," she said, "and I will fucking kill you."

She meant it. Just like he meant to kill Eugene. She could see it in his eyes, the bloodlust that called to her own. They had always been in sync on that level.

Rosita and Glenn stepped between them but her eyes never left Abraham's, not until he turned and stalked away.

It was only then that she realized Eugene was slumped on the ground, and the sight of his unconscious form filled her with such crushing panic that she dropped to her knees.

"Is he okay? Is he gonna be okay? Is he breathing?"

Her hands fluttered helplessly over his prone form, touching his face, his neck, his chest.

 _Nononono not him not him dear god not him._

Tears burned her cheeks, blurring her vision. Angrily she swiped them away but they just kept coming.

"Mason. Mason, honey, calm down. He's…he's still breathin'."

That was Maggie, laying a steadying hand on her shoulder.

"Then do something!"

Her heart hammered so fast in her chest she wondered idly if she was having a stroke. It was hard to breathe. There wasn't enough air and everything was too hot and the world was starting to slip away at the corners.

" _Mason_. Sweetie, look at me. Look at me."

But when Mason didn't respond, Maggie grabbed her face firmly in her hands and forced her to look away from Eugene's unresponsive, half-lidded eyes.

"Honey, you're havin' a panic attack, I need you to breathe with me, okay?"

But how could she breathe? Why did it matter? She couldn't even remember how her lungs worked.

"Mason, breathe."

She struggled to do as Maggie said, heaving a shaking breath in and then releasing it. Her lungs burned and her chest ached, like her heart had bruised her ribcage, but gradually, gradually, she returned back to relative normal. The anxiety remained but the world stopped falling around her.

Maggie stroked her hair out of her face. "Hey. You with me?"

Shakily, she nodded. "Help him. You can help him, right?"

"There's…not much I can do for him."

"What do you mean? There has to be something."

"Should we get him to the church?" Glenn asked.

Maggie shook her head. "Movin' him could make him worse."

"What'll make him better?"

"Wakin' up."

~m~

Mason stayed crouched over Eugene's form, one hand gripping his, the other stroking occasionally through his hair. Her knees screamed and the sun baked her shoulders but she didn't move.

"Hey, Mason, we-"

She drew her gun quicker than lightning, aiming it at Glenn, who had come around the corner. He held his hands up and took a step back.

"Whoa, whoa, hey. It's okay. Put the gun down."

Still she watched him, bristling with mistrust. She had no intention of letting him or anyone else near Eugene.

"Mason. I'm not gonna hurt him. Put the gun down."

After a long, tense pause, she slowly lowered her gun, but her suspicion never wavered.

"I just wanted to tell you that me and the others are going to look for water. I wondered if you wanted to come."

"No."

She didn't recognize her own voice and apparently neither did Glenn. His eyes darkened with worry but he just nodded.

"Okay. Maggie's gonna stay here with you and keep watch. We won't be gone long."

He disappeared without another word. Mason listened to him and the others getting ready, constantly on edge in case one of them approached. Her eyes narrowed when she caught them whispering her name.

"I don't know, but…I'm worried about Mason, too. I've never seen her like this. Not even after the prison."

"That's because her and Eugene…you know."

Her spine prickled. Her and Eugene _what_? But no one else seemed to need further explanation.

"If he doesn't wake up…"

"Let's just hope he does."

~m~

Once the others had left, Mason decided it was safe enough to give her body a rest. She lowered her aching limbs down onto the pavement and curled up next to Eugene, resting her head on his chest so she could monitor his pulse.

Breathing was a game, a roll of the dice. The panic moved in and out like waves, threatening to engulf her with each swell. Pressure built inside her ribcage until she thought her heart would be crushed.

 _God, please,_ she thought. _Don't take him from me._

It had been a long time since she'd prayed, a long time since she'd believed that it could ever do any good. But she was desperate, she was small and helpless, and she needed him to wake up. She _needed_ him.

 _Just let him wake up. Just let him be okay._

She couldn't even imagine the alternative. Every time her traitor brain took her there, she shut down. Her limbs shook and her lungs shriveled.

She didn't know where Maggie was. Giving Mason some space, probably, for which she was grateful. Abraham hadn't appeared, either, but she tried not to think of him. It made her feel less in control of herself. More likely to spill blood and not give a shit whose it was.

Time passed but it was hard to say how much. The sun didn't seem to move but surely it was? Surely this wasn't some fucked-up loop she was suddenly trapped in? Some sci-fi horror cliché Eugene most certainly would've eaten up, the fucking nerd.

 _Her_ nerd.

She closed her eyes and tried to wipe her mind clean, to rest in numbing blackness. But all she could see was Eugene smiling, his eyes when she told him he was her best friend, his trembling hands when he confessed to the lie.

 _Best damn liar in the multiverse._

~m~

When Maggie came around with the ladder, it was clear Glenn had filled her in on Mason's ferocious vigilance. She approached slowly and spoke in a soothing tone, like the way you talk to feral dogs.

"I thought you both could use some shade," she explained, nodding to the blanket draped over one shoulder.

Cautiously, Mason rose to her feet to help prop the ladder over Eugene. Maggie draped the blanket over it, creating a tent.

"Thank you," Mason said.

Maggie reached out and took her hand. "You should drink some water."

"No. Eugene can have it. He'll need it when he wakes up."

"You need to stay hydrated, too."

Mason thought of all the times Eugene had made sure she drank her water, how he'd left her bottles of it even when she wasn't so friendly. They always looked out for each other. She shook her head.

"No. He needs it more."

Maggie apparently thought better than to argue, because she gave Mason's hand a brief squeeze before leaving her alone again.

~m~

" _I am not the only traveler_

 _who has not repaid his debt._

 _I've been searching for a trail to follow again,_

 _take me back to the night we met._ "

Her voice was strong and steady, fluid and fire. She didn't care if it was stupid. There was nothing else she could do. She didn't care who heard so long as he did.

" _I had all and then most of you,_

 _some and now none of you._

 _Take me back to the night we met._

 _I don't know what I'm supposed to do,_

 _haunted by the ghost of you._

 _Oh, take me back to the night we met._ "

She would sing him back. She would scream him from the edge if that's what it took.

~m~

When the others returned, she was still singing, rotating through all the songs she could think of. She ignored them, refused to take the water bottle Glenn offered her. Her eyes stayed fixed on Eugene's face, her fingers locked in his fingers.

The others sorted water bottles, inventoried their belongings. Mason continued to sing.

" _Is this heaven, or is this hell?_

 _Or is it all nothing?_

 _This numbness that I feel,_

 _it seems to be growing._ "

Eugene's hand tightened around hers.

Her breath shuddered to a standstill, cutting off mid-lyric.

"Eugene?"

His eyelids fluttered.

"M…Mason…"

Relief was not the right sentiment. There was not a word for how she felt. She smiled a breathless smile, stroking his hair, dotting his shirt with tears.

"It's me," she whispered. "I'm right here."

He lifted one quivering hand to touch her face. "You're real," he rasped. "You're…angel…"

His addled words brought her back to reality. Refusing to look away from his blackened eyes, she hollered to the others.

" _We need water_!"

They rushed over quickly, all except Abraham, and began giving him water and tending to his wounds and gently lifting him to his feet. Mason stayed with him through it all, never letting go of his hand.

"I'll get him on the truck," she finally said, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him. He leaned on her heavily as they rounded the corner, and there was Abraham, standing at the edge of the road.

He didn't say anything, and Mason kept her tone light as she helped Eugene on the truck. But once he was secure she fixed Abraham with her blackest glare, and there was no mistaking the threat in her eyes.

~m~

"I was on a beach somewhere…" Eugene said. He was lying in the back of the truck, his head propped up against Mason's side. They were headed back to the church. The first unanimous decision they'd made since starting their journey.

"Oh, yeah? Nice of you to take a vacation while the rest of us slum it in the boondocks," she teased.

"You were there, too," he went on. "You were dying."

"Me?" She blinked.

"The tides had taken you… I swam out to get you but you were fixed in place. That's when I heard it. Faraway and faint, but I heard it. The singing. It was you, wasn't it?"

Tears pricked her eyes. "Yes."

"I knew it. Even then I knew it. I held onto your voice like a rope and it pulled me out of the water, or out of wherever I was. I guess…I guess it's plausible I could very well have-"

"No. Let's not…think about that."

He blinked in surprise. "You were scared."

"Of course I was. You were… I thought…"

But she couldn't even admit it.

Eugene fidgeted uneasily. "I just figured…after coming clean about my dishonesty…"

"That I'd want you _dead_?"

His silence was answer enough.

She sighed. "Eugene…when you first told us, I was pissed. It wasn't even so much the whole cure thing, because we've been trapped in this hell for so long it's…well, it feels, like, permanent. I guess it is. And a part of me always doubted that there could ever be a…a going back. Too much has changed. Not just for me, or you, or the rest of us, but for the whole world. We can't go back.

"I didn't care about losing D.C. I was pissed because you lied to me. You really hurt me."

"I never wanted to," he said in a small voice.

Mason stroked her hand soothingly through his hair. "I know. I saw it on your face. I know how much of you it's hollowed out, the lying." She smiled a little. "Best liar in the multiverse."

"What?"

"That's your title. You know: ladies and gentlemen, now introducing the best liar in the multiverse, Dr. Deceit, otherwise known as EEP the Geek."

Eugene smiled. "Don't make me laugh, I literally dragged myself out of the maw of death not an hour earlier."

"Oh, literally, huh?"

"Well, I guess you did. My siren. That's _your_ title."

"Don't sirens lure men _to_ their death."

"I guess you're an odd siren. Mason Odd-Siren, the fireball with the fire poker."

"Shut up, you nerd."

~m~

When they arrived at the church, Carl, Michonne and Gabriel were outside, covered in blood. The doors had been boarded shut from the outside, and there were walkers strewn in pieces across the ground.

"They ran into trouble," Eugene said.

"We always do," Mason replied.

She left him to rest in the truck, hopping out to examine the damage. She quirked an eyebrow at Michonne.

"Have fun without us?"

Michonne huffed an exhausted laughed and hugged her tight, then pulled away, confused.

"You're back. Something happen?"

Mason faltered, unwilling to betray Eugene even though she knew they would have to. Seeing her flounder, Glenn jumped in to explain.

"Eugene lied," he said. "He can't stop it."

Michonne's eyes darkened, and Mason felt a flicker of defensiveness, but Maggie spoke before things could escalate.

"Where is everybody?"

And just like that, there was joy on Michonne's face, the kind of someone who has the perfect gift to give someone else. She turned to Mason and Maggie.

"Beth's alive. She's in a hospital in Atlanta. Some people have her but the others went to get her back.

The world slowed to a stop.

Her heart fluttered in dizzying somersaults.

"Beth's…alive," Mason whispered. "She's alive. She's alive, oh my god-"

Maggie swept her up right as the tears started. They cried into each other's shirts. They laughed and clutched each other tight.

Beth

was

 _alive_.

~m~

" _I think I maybe missed the point._

 _I may be thinking out loud._

 _I hope it all crashes down._ "


	28. Bloodflood

Hello, lovelies! Okay, so I am both super nervous and super excited to present the last two chapters of Heathens. Like I said, there will be a sequel (which I will likely post the first chapter of tonight), and I truly, truly hope you will join me there. This chapter title belongs to a song that is near and dear to my heart, "Bloodflood" by alt-J. It is perfect. So without further adieu, here is the first of the last chapters.

28\. Bloodflood

" _A wave, an awesome wave,_

 _that rushes skin and widens in flooded veins._

 _Breathe in,_

 _exhale…_ "

~m~

 **Mason**

"Do you think…do you think she'll like me?"

"I think she's gonna love you. She's all about the misfits."

"Oh, so is that why she loves you?"

"Goddammit, stop being so salty. For reals, though, I'm so excited for you to meet her. I think the three of us are gonna be tighter than Olympian spandex."

"That is a lovely thought."

 **Beth**

Last night, she'd killed a man.

Pushed him into the elevator shaft and down he went to splatter into walker food two hundred feet below.

She couldn't get it out of her head.

It wasn't that he was a good man, because he wasn't.

It wasn't that he didn't deserve to die, because he did.

It was that she'd killed him for Dawn. Because Dawn was too weak to do it herself, until it was too late. Just like with Gorman. Just like with everyone.

 _Use everything you can use._ That's what the place was. People using people to get what they wanted. They had taken the stigma and twisted it into something wicked.

This place was a poison.

 **Mason**

"Rick and Beth and I went out once on a scavenging mission. It was supposed to be real simple, but we got caught in a storm and had to take refuge in this old, sketchy gas station. I mean, like it was total Jason Vorhees caliber sketchy."

"Sweet."

"I know, right? Anyway, so after we siphon the last of the gas and pick over the dregs of food no one else wanted, we're sitting around, listening to the storm, and Rick's telling ghost stories like he thinks we're five years old. Except… Okay, don't ever tell him this but he's really good at making up scary stories. Like, he was kinda freaking me out. Shut up, Eugene. _Anyway._ He's telling ghost stories, I'm acting all big and bad for my girl, when all of sudden we hear this pounding start up outside along the walls."

"I'd be willing to bet my fake doctorate that you screamed."

"Only on the inside."

 **Beth**

 _I was like you when I was younger._

Looking at Dawn now, standing in the doorway of her room, Beth remembered these words from the night before. She'd pretended they meant nothing but inside her heart had trembled.

Had Dawn really been like her? Had she read bedtime stories with her dad? Had she had a sister? Had she loved someone, sung in front of a crowd around a campfire, kissed someone who tasted like moonlight?

"Your people are coming for you. Gather your things and meet us in the hall in five," Dawn said, her face carefully cleared of any emotion.

Beth nodded, but her neck prickled with foreboding.

Dawn was planning something, she was sure of it.

Quietly she dressed in her old clothes, the ones she'd found at the golf court with Daryl. It felt good to wear yellow again.

She paused to examine herself in the mirror.

 _You're wrong about what happened, I didn't use you. And I will remember._

Rick and Daryl were coming to rescue her and Carol. In five minutes she would see them. In five minutes she'd be with her family again.

She'd see Mason again.

 _This is important. Maybe the most important thing you do in your life._

After a moment's hesitation, she slipped the scissors into her sleeve.

 **Mason**

"It was walkers, trying to get in out of the storm. They didn't even know we were there, at least not at first. So Rick immediately comes up with one of his plans- once you get to know him a little better, you'll know what I'm talking about. This particular plan involved him and me running out of the building in different directions, firing our guns to draw the walkers away."

"You two sound like bona fide gunslingers."

"I think we were in a past life."

 **Beth**

She stood behind the rest of them, Dawn and her officers and Dr. Edwards. Carol sat in a wheelchair beside her. Beth reached for her hand and they held on tight, waiting.

When Rick's face appeared, in the window of the door down the hall, her heart began to pound.

Dawn spoke into her walkie talkie. "Holster your weapons."

There was silence on the other end. And then the door opened.

Rick and Daryl trailed behind Dawn's captured officers, and the sight of their familiar faces sent a shard through her chest. And there was Tyreese, Sasha, Noah. She wanted to run to them, and it took a concerted effort to stay where she was.

"They haven't been harmed," Rick said.

"Where's Lamson?" Dawn replied.

"Rotters got him," one of the kidnapped officers replied.

"We saw it go down," the other added.

"Oh."

Beth stiffened. It was just one word, barely audible. It trembled with emotion, but something lurked behind it.

She didn't believe them.

 **Mason**

"Of course, as you can probably guess, shit did _not_ go according to plan."

"Obviously."

"The walkers broke through the windows and came surging for us. We were goners."

 **Beth**

"One of yours for one of mine."

Daryl brought his cop forward first. Dawn nodded to one of her officers, who wheeled Carol over to him. For a moment, Beth felt horribly alone.

Rick brought his captive next and Dawn grabbed Beth's arm to lead her forward. She resisted the urge to pull away, focusing on Rick's steady gaze, on Daryl waiting behind him.

When she got to him, Rick kissed her forehead in a way that reminded her painfully of her father. And in a way, she knew, Rick had become like a second dad to her. He was the dad of the whole group, and she felt instantly safe with him around.

 _Never assume that someone will be around to save you. You have to save yourself._

Mason's words came back to her then, snapping her back to attention. It didn't matter that Rick was here. It didn't matter that Daryl was here, or that the others were.

Dawn was up to something. They weren't safe yet.

"Glad we could work things out," Dawn said.

"Yeah," Rick growled, and the group turned to leave.

"Now I just need Noah."

 **Mason**

"It was Beth who saved us, my little Viking queen. While Rick and I were about to launch into his plan half-cocked, she kicked over the gasoline cans and told us to run. She was so serious in that moment, like total queen-leading-her-people-into-battle serious, that neither of us argued or asked what she was doing. As we ran to the back of the store, she lit a match and tossed it behind her."

"Badass."

"Hell yeah it was badass. So the walkers were all drawn to the light and we managed to fight our way out the back after all. Rick said afterwards that… Is that it?"

"Grady Memorial, right?"

"We're here."

 **Beth**

Rick turned around with a dangerous expression and the group followed. Daryl stuck close to Beth, like he didn't want her leaving his sight.

"That wasn't part of the deal."

"Noah was my ward," Dawn said. "Beth took his place and I'm losing her, so I need him back. My officers put their lives on the line to find him. One of them died."

Daryl growled. "No. He ain't stayin'."

"He's one of mine, you have no claim on him."

Beth's blood boiled. _Claim on him_? He wasn't Dawn's property.

 _This world breeds a special kind of wicked._

"The boy wants to go home, so _you_ have no claim on him," Rick said.

"Well, then we don't have a deal."

 _There will always be monsters, like the Governor._

"The deal is done!" Rick snarled.

"I-it's okay," Noah said, limping forward.

Rick tried to stop him, but Noah just shook his head. He looked more tired than a boy his age had any right to look.

"I gotta do it."

"No," Beth said, her voice trembling. "It's not okay."

"It's settled," Dawn said.

Squaring his shoulders, Noah limped as steadily as he could back to Dawn, back to fluorescent lights and bleach and fresh air on the other side of sealed windows.

Noah who had snuck her candy, who had taken her beatings, who reminded her of Mason, who helped her escape.

"Wait!"

Beth ran after him before she could stop herself and wrapped him in her arms. He laughed a little, but there was only desolation in his voice.

"Beth. It's okay."

Dawn watched them both, a smug little smile playing on her face.

"I knew you'd be back."

Beth went absolutely still, her eyes flickering up to meet hers.

 _One day you might run into someone like that. And I don't want them to trick you into mercy._

Blinking tears from her eyes, Beth faced Dawn with her head high. No more pretending to be meek. No more hiding who she was. She wanted Dawn to see that she wasn't a little girl, she was a fire with a woman's form.

 _They do not deserve to live._

"I get it now," she said, and there was Mason behind her, that imaginary phantom, her love, her strength, her moonlit kisses and afternoon tea.

Her wrist flicked lightly. The scissors slid into her hand. Easy peasy.

 _They cannot be allowed to live._

The scissors flashed as they descended.

There was a single spark of triumph. She felt that very clearly.

Dawn's gun went off and Beth's head flew back, painting the barren walls red.

 **Mason**

She could hardly keep from running ahead of the others as they approached the hospital. She was finally going to see Beth again, the final missing piece to the puzzle.

There were walkers milling between the fences, but they took them down easily. Eugene walked beside her, sticking close like he was uncertain of his right to be there. She meant to give him an encouraging smile but it turned into an ear-to-ear grin.

She was going to see Beth.

 _She was going to see Beth._

Before they could reach the entrance, the doors opened.

Sasha and a boy Mason didn't recognize came out first, and then Tyreese, guiding an unsteady Carol.

When Rick followed, she stopped in her tracks at the look on his face. He was crying. Something was wrong.

Behind him came Daryl, who was crying, too, and carrying Beth.

Crying and carrying Beth.

She couldn't make sense of it at first. It didn't make sense at all. Her body was so limp. Her head lolled lifelessly against Daryl's chest, staining his shirt red.

Staining it red

staining it

red

Someone was screaming, but it wasn't really a scream. It was the wail of someone in deep and irreversible pain.

"Beth?" she whispered, but Beth wasn't there, Beth wasn't there, Beth wasn't there.

The truth of it hit her all at once, or maybe the air turned into lead, or maybe she was dying, maybe she was

 _(dead)_

crumbling into the earth.

"Beth," she whispered again, just once.

Her vision slipped away, or maybe it was the world itself.

As always, Eugene was there to catch her, but she was gone before she knew she was falling.


	29. Solitude

This title chapter is "Solitude" by M83.

29\. Epilogue: Solitude

" _Somewhere_

 _back in time_

 _I left a part of me,_

 _I wanna see if you can try_

 _to bring it back to me…_ "

~m~

 **Mason**

She was alone, sitting next to a grave.

The smell of churned earth choked her. The sun melted her skin. Her whole body was numb, yet every movement hurt.

So she just

didn't

move.

There were other people around her, she was fairly certain. People she knew. But she was apart from them.

Alone

except for…

 **Eugene**

He was terrified.

It had been three days since losing Beth. Mason didn't eat or drink or sleep. She was catatonic- heavy-lidded eyes like she could barely stand to see, empty eyes like everything she'd ever been was gone.

He guided her everywhere she went, slept next to her but never dared put his arms around her. Truthfully, he hadn't slept much either. Most nights he stayed awake watching her eyes swallow the void of the sky.

He didn't know what to do. He felt absolutely helpless.

On the fourth morning, Rick called a meeting. Mason of course stayed where she was, huddled against a tree, looking achingly small. Eugene hesitated to leave her alone but he needed to know what the next move was. He needed to know for her.

The others drew away as he joined them. He steeled himself against their animosity, just imagining that Mason was right next to him.

It took a moment for Rick to speak. Everything he'd said since Beth's death sounded strained, like every word had to be dragged from some bleeding part of him.

"Noah is going home to Richmond, Virginia," he finally said. "I think we should go with him."

"That's a long way," Carol said.

"Yes, it is. But I was talking with him. It was secure. It has a wall, homes, twenty people."

He paused, blinking down at the ground.

"Beth wanted to go with him."

Eugene flinched, casting an anxious glance behind him at Mason. But either she hadn't heard or was too numb to respond.

"She wanted to get him there," Rick continued. "It is a long trip, but if it works out, it's the last long trip we'll have to make."

Nervously, Eugene spoke up. "All things being equal, Rick, I'm not sure if we're up for such a trip at this moment."

Rick cocked his head and stalked toward him. The glint in his eyes made Eugene want to hide but he stood his ground.

"I don't seem to remember you making these kind of arguments back at the church," he growled. His voice was low, but it couldn't have been scarier if he'd screamed. "After Bob. After Mason kept you safe."

"I know. I just want what's best for her."

"Walls? Safety? A chance at a life that isn't this? I'd say that's what's best for her."

"More than you could offer her," Carol muttered.

Eugene recoiled. There was nothing he could say to that.

The group agreed to go to Virginia, regardless of Eugene's doubts. He knew he couldn't be the only one but no one wanted to side with him. Once it was decided, they wandered off to gather their things and prepare for the journey.

"Eugene."

He turned at the sound of Rick's voice, crossing his arms over his chest to hide his trembling hands.

"I am doing you a favor by letting you come with us," Rick said. "But you no longer have any say in what this group does."

"Rick, I just want-"

"And you're going to stay away from Mason."

Eugene blinked. "She needs me-"

"No. She doesn't need someone who's going to lie to her, who's going to put her in danger because they can't take care of themselves. Thatis not what she needs right now."

 _Christ, Eugene, do you even know what you did for me?_

He could picture her face so clearly, shining at him in the dark. Telling him that he was one of her favorite people in the world.

Rick was still watching him, his eyes shadowed with the protectiveness of a father. He knew that's how Mason thought of him. The dad she'd always wanted.

 _Christ,_ he thought. _I'm going head-to-head with her adoptive gunslinger father. Fucking Christ._

But in his mind she was shining. She was his best friend, and he loved her.

 _My feet were dangling over the edge and the rest of me was about to follow, but then there you were. You pulled me back._

He loved her more than that.

Swallowing his fear, he said, "If Mason decides it necessary to distance herself from me, I will gladly oblige. It's her choice. But until then I intend to see her through this."

 _Partners in crime._

"That's what we do for each other."

The look Rick gave him then… Eugene's stomach twisted with the certainty that he was about to die.

"Look," Rick growled. "I don't know what you think is gonna happen, but-"

" _Shit_. Mason!"

They startled at Daryl's shout, turning to see him ease Mason's limp frame to the ground. Her eyes were glazed and sightless, hair clinging to her sweat-slick skin. Panic sparked Eugene's pulse into double time. He and Rick rushed over, and Carol joined them a moment later.

"She fainted," Daryl said.

Gently, Carol patted Mason's cheeks with water until her eyes fluttered back to consciousness.

Except she wasn't really back. It was like staring down a vacant hallway.

 **Mason**

She was floating, somewhere deep. An ocean.

She was a weightless anchor, fixed in place.

There was green all around her, and heat, but she didn't feel it.

There were people saying her name, and she knew she recognized them, but it didn't matter.

 _I could let myself die if I wanted to._

It would be easy. She was already so numb.

What else was there to hold onto?

 **Eugene**

"She needs to eat and she needs to get some water into her system," Carol murmured.

Immediately, Daryl fished some pecans from his pocket and held them out.

"Mason?"

Her eyes never moved, fixed on some point in space that no one else could see.

Rick offered her water, as did Carol. She didn't respond to either.

 _Let's just both agree to stay alive then, coolioz?_

Stinging with desperation, Eugene pushed his way forward with his own water bottle.

"Hey!"

Rick slammed a hand to his chest, jarring him to a halt.

" _What did I just tell you_?"

But though he was afraid, though he knew Rick could tear him limb from limb, he ignored him.

"Mason?"

Something deep within her flickered.

Slowly, slowly, she looked up.

" _Mason_."

Choking back tears, he held the bottle out to her. The others stared at him in disbelief but his eyes never left hers.

"I think you should drink some water."

There was a moment's pause, in which she regarded him with piercing recognition. Finally, with a shaking hand, she took the bottle and drank.

 **Mason**

It was for him that she ate. For him that she stayed hydrated, for him that she slept. She felt no pull toward the warmth of the sun or the chirping of birds or the soft night air, except that he existed.

She never slept unless his arms were around her. She didn't say a word that first night, just curled up beside him, his side warming her spine. The nightmares made her thrash but he never complained.

She was aware that they were traveling, but was blurry on the details. Something about that kid Noah, the one who had helped…

But she couldn't think it. Couldn't think the name. It was on her mind constantly. It was not allowed to be there. Dancing around the forefront, the relentless torture of things that would not be repressed.

She couldn't escape the dreams, however. They came for her every night. Packs of wolves chewing that name into every thought, even the ones that weren't about _her_. Knifing her blood. Rending her brain like paper flesh.

She awoke from one she couldn't remember the night before they reached Noah's hometown. Salt and moonlight clung to her skin, her hair sticking in wild frays around her shadowed eyes. She lay still for a moment, catching her breath. Eugene slept with his face buried in her shoulder, snoring fitfully.

Movement caught her eye, a pale flash off to her left. Carefully she sat up, taking pains not to wake Eugene or alert any of the others. Abraham and Carol were on watch, but Daryl had taught her to walk near-silently through the forest. Neither of them noticed her disappear.

The forest was strangely peaceful, eerily so. She felt as though she'd entered a different world, a world conjured from mist and dreams and cricket song. Silver light hung on the branches like ethereal moss. She breathed deeply and evenly, tasting the air. For what, she could not name.

She smelled the rain first, and might've thought nothing of it except that the sky was clear. A moment later, through the trees, the pale figure materialized.

Mason shuddered to a halt, heaving a breath of air so quickly she nearly choked. Goosebumps pulled her skin taut.

The figure

 _(don't think the name don't think it don't think it)_

was dressed in yellow and haloed in silver. There was everything familiar about it, and nothing earthly. Yet it was real. It had to be. It had to be.

Mason stumbled forward hazily. The wraith giggled and flitted away, doe-quick.

"Wait!"

She quickened her pace, forgetting the need to keep quiet, tripping over roots and smacking into branches. One of them whipped her hard enough to cut her cheek, but the pain was a faraway rush.

The wraith kept just far enough ahead to remain visible, turning every once in a while to smile or send a whispered lyric on the breeze.

Mason's mind whirled, or possibly the world was spinning too quick to keep up with. The gentle sounds of the night rose to a horrible cacophony. Blood and tears trickled into her mouth.

" _Mason_!"

A new figure crashed into her, sturdily familiar, smelling of earth and sleep and campfire smoke. Blindly she struggled against him, huffing a panicked breath. _The wraith was getting away_.

"Let me go!" she gasped. "The rain, the wraith. I need to find her."

Eugene held her by her arms, his face pinched with confusion. "What?"

" _The wraith_. She- it- _let me go_!"

"Mason, there's nothing out here. You need to come back with me."

"She's _here_ , I _saw_ her. I saw her, please, I saw her."

"You didn't-"

" _I did_!" she screeched, swinging her fists at his chest, his shoulders, his arms, anywhere she could reach. Still he held onto her, staring at her with an expression she couldn't bear.

"Mason. Sweetheart. It's not her," he said, and tears rolled down his cheeks. "Beth is dead."

"Stop. _Stop_."

But the fight in her died as quickly as it had kindled, burning out like the flash of a meteor. She collapsed into his arms, convulsing with sobs forceful enough to rattle her bones.

Eugene pressed his forehead to hers and cried with her.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

They held on for a long time, his bruises, her grief, clutching desperately at each other because letting go meant the end.

They were alone, but they were alone together.

~m~

Rick, Glenn, Michonne and Tyreese accompanied Noah to his hometown while everyone else waited behind. They made temporary camp off the side of the road, huddling up in an anxious circle to wait for Rick's report.

Mason sat by herself with her back against a truck tire. Eugene was snoring in the back of the truck, trying to reverse the damage of several sleepless nights. She drifted in and out of awareness, breathing around the hole in her chest.

"…Whether or not this works out, something needs to be done about _him_. We can't trust him."

She sat up straighter at the sound of Carol's voice, stirring from her numbness.

"What do you suggest? We just leave him out here alone?" That was Maggie.

"Maybe it would teach him not to use other people as shelter."

"Guys, what the hell?" Tara's voice joined the argument. "Eugene's a part of this group now whether you like it or not."

"Everyone sitting here has earned their place in this group, but he hasn't. He lied and he got people killed. He'll do it again."

Mason's blood began to burn. It didn't kill the numbness but it did eclipse it.

Eugene handing her a bottle of water, asking her if she was alright, holding her hand, wrapping her wound, laughing with her, crying with her.

Mason rose to her feet.

"People like him are just as dangerous as the dead," Carol continued. "We have to do something about him."

"No."

Everyone startled and looked up at Mason, who stood over them with her gun in hand. Her gaze was steadier than it had been in days, clear as a winter morning.

It smoldered. Raw. Bitter. Ice.

She aimed her gun. She didn't want to hurt any of them, but they needed to know that Eugene was not going anywhere. He was with her and she was with him until the end.

"No one touches him."

They stared at her, wary and amazed, until finally Tara stood up.

"Okay," she said. "Okay. No one touches him. I promise you right now."

She glared around at the rest of the group until a few of them nodded. Then she slowly approached Mason, resting a hand on her arm until she lowered the gun.

"It's okay. It's okay."

Frostily, Mason nodded. The numbness was already returning, devouring everything else. Deflated now that she'd made her point, she shuffled back to sit by the truck.

~m~

An hour later, Rick radioed the group to tell them that the town was gone.

An hour after that, he radioed to tell them that Tyreese had been bitten.

An hour after that, he radioed to tell them that Tyreese was dead.

Mason and Maggie were the first to get to Sasha when she heard. They held her as she sank to her knees, wailing her bone-shaking agony into the forest.

They were an island of grief in a storm of pain, and they were together but they were

utterly

utterly

alone.

~m~

Eyes watched them from the woods as they dug the grave.

There she was. _Mason._ Familiar and different. Home and lost. She was grieving. She was covered in it.

Good.

"Alpha," a voice whispered, and the watcher turned.

A man with scraggly hair and jagged yellow teeth grinned at her. The W he'd carved into his head had long since scarred into a beautiful weal, a proclamation of who they were and what the world had made them.

What they would take back from the world.

"Is it time yet?"

The watcher glanced back at the group she'd studied for so long. At the face that was somehow stranger and somehow not.

No. She needed to suffer a little longer.

"It will be," the watcher answered. "Soon enough."

They turned away and left, vanishing into the woods like ghosts. In their wake they left a scattering of walkers, torn limb from limb, head from torso, all inscribed with bloody W's.

On a rock, in glistening gore, they'd painted their warning.

 _Wolves not far._

~m~

" _I need you, now I know._

 _Just give me one more time_

 _I wanna try and be your friend_

 _so we can beat the end._ "

Continued in SPIRITS...

NOTE: I'm sorry guys. I know these last two chapters were not happy in the slightest. In all honesty I cried while writing them because I'm just a pansy like that lol. Like I said before, I truly, truly hope you will join me for the sequel. I would never have finished this story if it weren't for all of you, for your reviews and support, and I am so, so grateful. Much love to all of you.

xoxo the muse.


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